Mildred's Choice
Among the new friends whom Mildred had made at Castleford none proved
more congenial than the Somervilles. They were a decidedly musical
family: Rhoda and Rodney both played the piano well, and the Vicar
himself had considerable skill on the violoncello. The Chorltons, who
were staying at a farm near the village, were also fond of music, so
many pleasant little gatherings were held in the Vicarage drawing-room.
Young Mr. Chorlton was possessed of a capital voice, and played his own
accompaniments on the guitar in what Diccon called "true mediaeval
style, worthy of Tiverton Keep"; and his sisters sang German duets with
admirable taste. Violet, who cared for nothing but outdoor sports, did
not often join these parties, but Lady Lorraine allowed Mildred to visit
the Somervilles as frequently as she wished. Mildred thoroughly enjoyed
the pleasant, unconventional home, so simple yet so refined, so full of
many interests and much work--a home in which the general atmosphere was
stimulating to a degree, for the Vicar loved to discuss both literature
and the current topics of the day with his children, and generally had
some intellectual subject on hand. He was an ardent botanist, and with
Rhoda's help had made a splendid collection of dried plants, which were
kept on special shelves in his study. He was at present engaged in
writing a book upon the flora of the Lake district, and it was Rhoda's
immense pride and privilege to be allowed to help in the compiling of
lists or the copying of certain pages. To be her father's amanuensis was
her greatest ambition, and she treasured every hour she spent with him
at their favourite hobby, whether writing in the study or hunting for
specimens on the hillsides.
Eric, the eldest son, was at Cambridge, in the same college, though not
in the same year, as Mr. Chorlton. Rodney, who had just left school, was
looking forward to learning motor engineering at Kirkton. He was an
ingenious young fellow, and had made many clever contrivances at the
Vicarage: a windmill that pumped water from the well, an electric motor
that turned either his mother's sewing-machine or the churn in the
dairy, and numerous handy little achievements in the way of carpentry.
Mildred liked him by far the best of the three boys. Eric was rather
inclined to be superior and conceited, and to wish to lay down the law
to the rest of the family; and Diccon, who was still at school, was too
fond of mischief to be taken seriously; but Rodney was perfectly frank
and unaffected in his manners, in spite of his undoubted cleverness, and
quite the most satisfactory at home.
Rhoda, so far, had been taught by her father, but she was hoping to go
to school for a year or two to finish her education, and have the
advantage of mixing with other girls. She questioned Mildred eagerly
about St. Cyprian's, and was anxious to hear every detail of the life
there: the lessons, the teachers, the games, and the Alliance which had
lately been formed with so much success. As reminiscences of Kirkton
were strongly discouraged at The Towers, Mildred found it a great relief
to talk to Rhoda about the many interests of her school. She would
descant upon the joys of St. Cyprian's, the fun of cricket matches or
Eisteddfods, and of the various plans that had been made for the autumn
term, till her friend was filled with a longing to go and taste the
joyful experiences for herself. Rodney also asked many questions about
Kirkton; and to these two confidants Mildred by degrees described all
her home life at Meredith Terrace, the concerts she attended, her
lessons with Professor Hoffmann, and the hopes he entertained that she
should follow a musical career. She did not forget to enumerate the many
advantages of Kirkton, and sang the city's praises with the utmost
enthusiasm, setting it down next to London itself in the variety of
opportunities of every sort which it afforded.
Mildred sometimes took her Stradivarius to the Vicarage, and her friends
there were both surprised and charmed with her playing, the Vicar, who
was a good judge of the violin, thinking even more highly of it than he
deemed it discreet to tell her.
"The child's quite a genius," he said to his wife privately, having
listened to Mildred improvising one afternoon. "The music's in her. You
can see it in her sensitive little face and her big dark eyes. She's an
artist to her finger tips, full of emotion and poetical imagination. I
have rarely heard such playing in a concert room, and to find both the
technique and the spirit of such a subtle work as the 'Fruehlingslied'
grasped by a girl of only sixteen is simply marvellous. Her own
compositions are full of merit, though naturally still immature; they
have the right ring about them, somehow--they're original, and not a
mere reflection of what she has heard elsewhere. If she goes on with her
training, she ought to have a great career before her, and make a name
for herself. I don't suppose they appreciate her talent in the least at
The Towers, and I can only hope, for the sake of the musical world at
large, that she may go back to the relations who value her gift, and who
have cultivated it so carefully."
As September arrived, and the time drew near for Dr. and Mrs. Graham to
come back from Canada, Mildred naturally began to feel some anxiety
about the subject of her return to Meredith Terrace. The Lorraines
seemed to have taken it for granted that she was to remain permanently
at The Towers. They scarcely ever alluded to the Grahams, and though
they knew that she corresponded with them, they never asked for any news
of them, and appeared to take not the slightest interest in their
affairs, evidently regarding Mildred's life at Kirkton as a past
episode, to be ignored as much as possible, and certainly never to be
revived. How she was to break to them that she wished to return, now
that her visit was over, Mildred could not imagine. She had really been
happy at Castleford, and could not bear to seem ungrateful for all the
kindness she had received, and she could only hope that some way might
be found out of the difficulty by which she could leave without giving
offence.
September was a busy month at The Towers; not only was the house full of
visitors, but people were continually riding or motoring over, and
luncheon and dinner parties were of almost everyday occurrence. Violet
and Mildred were allowed to spend a short time in the drawing-room each
evening, and the latter thus had her first little peep at society, and
into that gay world which her cousin looked forward so much to entering
when she should be old enough to "come out". Sir Darcy and Lady Lorraine
were going away soon to join a shooting party on a beautiful estate in
Scotland, and as a last effort of hospitality before their guests
departed, they decided to give a large "At Home", to which all their
friends in the neighbourhood were to be invited.
"Everybody will be here," said Violet in much excitement; "the
Rochesters and the Markmans, and Lady Dorothy and Admiral Newson.
Colonel Thorpe is bringing quite a big party, and the Musgraves have
that beautiful cousin with them who made such a sensation this season.
Mrs. Dent says she sings, and we must be sure to ask her."
"Are you going to have music, then?" enquired Mildred, who was dressing
in her cousin's bedroom that night.
"Yes, a little, I expect," answered Violet, sitting down to let the maid
arrange her long fair hair. "And there'll be dancing afterwards in the
hall. Most of the people seem just to like to sit and talk to each
other. I think it's a pleasure to them to meet. Do you like my pearls or
my corals?"
"Your corals, I think," said Mildred. "Will anybody else sing, besides
the Musgraves' cousin?"
"Mrs. Cavendish has rather a good voice, and so has Colonel Thorpe. One
of the Dents plays the piano; she always brings some pieces with her
when she comes. I'm afraid people don't listen very much, they're
generally talking so hard all the time; but they seem to like to hear it
going on, and they always say 'Thank you!' at the end."
"How funny!" said Mildred, who could not reconcile the ideas of combined
music and conversation.
She had not before been present at a large party, and she was curious as
to what would take place. She went into the drawing-room rather shyly
with her cousin and Miss Ward. They were only to be allowed downstairs
for an hour, as Lady Lorraine did not wish to bring Violet forward too
much while she was still in the schoolroom, and had told Miss Ward to
send both the girls to bed at half-past nine. Mildred knew very few of
the people present, and she was glad to slip into a retired corner
behind the piano, where she could watch the gay scene without being
noticed herself. The room was full, and, as Violet had prophesied,
conversation seemed so entirely to constitute the chief enjoyment that
the music contributed by some of the guests was scarcely appreciated as
much as it deserved.
"How do you do, my dear? I'm very pleased indeed to meet you here," said
a voice in Mildred's ear; and, turning round, she found herself face to
face with Mrs. Trevor, the lady whom she had first met at the
Professor's, and through whose instrumentality it was that she had come
at all to The Towers.
"I expect you will have nearly forgotten Kirkton by now," said Mrs.
Trevor. "No? Well, at any rate I hope you have not forgotten your
beautiful playing. Are we to have the pleasure of listening to you
to-night?"
"Oh, no!" said Mildred, horror-stricken at the suggestion. "I never play
here, only practise."
"But we are all longing to hear you," said Mrs. Trevor. "I was telling
Mrs. Dent about you only the other day, and she said she would like to
see your Stradivarius. Lady Lorraine! Is not your little niece going to
bring down her violin? Either Miss Dent or myself would be charmed to
play her accompaniment. Please ask her to let us have some of her
delightful music. It would be quite a treat."
"Fetch your instrument, then, Mildred, if Mrs. Trevor wishes to hear
you, and will be so kind as to accompany you," said Lady Lorraine
promptly, but without much enthusiasm; adding, as Mildred blushed and
hesitated: "Go at once, my dear."
Mildred had not expected in the least that she would be asked to perform
on such an occasion, and her natural shyness made her more than usually
diffident. The guests looked up with interest as she took her place by
the piano, and, allowing Mrs. Trevor to choose a piece from among her
music, began a "Fantasia" on some old Hungarian melodies. All the
conversation was hushed, and those who had talked the loudest before
now listened intently, attracted at once by the little violinist and her
talented playing, and asking themselves who she could be. Mildred was
very warmly thanked and congratulated at the conclusion of her piece;
many people examined her violin and spoke kindly to her, and both Mrs.
Trevor and Miss Dent questioned her about her practising, and whether
she still continued to take lessons.
She had put the Stradivarius away, and had returned into the hall, where
she was standing half-hidden by the curtain of the dining-room door,
wondering whether she could find either Violet or Miss Ward, when she
suddenly became aware of a conversation which was taking place between
two ladies sitting on low chairs behind a group of palms close by her.
As she did not realize at first that she herself was the subject of
their remarks, and as, too, the hall was so crowded that she could not
have moved away just then without pushing quite rudely amongst the
guests, she was obliged to overhear what she felt afterwards had
certainly not been intended for her ears.
"It was wonderful playing," said the first lady. "She's as good as any
of those prodigies one hears in town, and a very pretty, graceful girl
too. Where did they pick her up?"
"Hush!" said the second. "She's Sir Darcy's niece. I'd never seen her
before. She's really marvellously clever."
"His niece! Why, it's most unusual to find such talent in an amateur.
She's equal to any professional."
"Well, I hear that she has been a professional. I certainly know for a
fact that she has appeared in public."
"But you told me that she is Sir Darcy's niece. I shouldn't have thought
the Lorraines would allow that."
"It's an old story," said the second speaker, lowering her voice still
more. "Sir Darcy's sister made a disgraceful match. She actually ran
away with her music master. It caused a terrible scandal at the time,
and Sir John never forgave her. I believe he was a very clever man, and
played divinely, but of course nobody would have anything to do with her
afterwards. I heard they were both dead. This is their child, and no
doubt it's only natural she should have been trained in this manner, as
she's been living among her father's relations. Sir Darcy has taken her
now, and intends to provide for her, but I really am astonished that he
should allow her to play here to-night, when everybody must know the
circumstances of the case."
Growing quite desperate, Mildred felt that she simply must move away,
and, at the risk of being rude, managed to slip between a group of
talking people. As she did so, she caught a glimpse, at the other side
of the curtain, of Sir Darcy, who had also been standing in the shelter
of the dining-room door, and she knew instantly, by his face, that he,
too, must have overheard the conversation. Threading her way amongst the
groups of visitors, she at last reached the staircase, and rushing up to
her bedroom she locked the door, and flung herself on to her bed in a
passion of hot, angry tears.
Why should they talk thus of her father? she asked herself bitterly.
Was his genius not equal, nay superior, to rank and wealth? Did they
class her, too, as infinitely beneath them? Which was the higher aim in
life, to glory in the things that had been given you through no merit or
toil of your own, and to scorn all those who did not possess them, or to
make the very utmost of your talents, and let them be of some use to
your fellow creatures, and by working your hardest feel that you had at
least tried to take your share in the world's burden?
"I shall have to tell Uncle Darcy I'm going back to Kirkton," thought
Mildred. "I don't know how to do it, but it's got to come somehow. I
daren't leave it any longer, or Uncle Colin and Aunt Alice may begin to
think I want to stay. It's most beautiful here, and I get ever so many
things I shan't have at Meredith Terrace, but it's not home. They're
very kind to me, but they don't love me in the least, and I'm sure they
won't miss me when I'm gone. I'm nothing to them, and though it may be
very grand to live at The Towers, it's a hundred times happier in my own
dear home, and among my own people who really care for me."
After all, it was not so difficult as she had imagined, for the very
next day the occasion arrived. The guests who had been staying in the
house had gone away by the midday train, Miss Ward and Violet were at
lessons, and Sir Darcy, Lady Lorraine, and Mildred were by themselves in
the morning-room. The talk fell on the "At Home" of the night before,
and Lady Lorraine made some comments on the singing of Miss Beresford,
the Musgraves' cousin.
"By the by, speaking of music, I should like to take the opportunity,
when we are alone," said Sir Darcy, "of mentioning that in future I
should much prefer that Mildred should not play her violin in public.
There are several reasons which render it most undesirable that she
should do so. I don't know whether Miss Ward is giving her lessons, but
if so, they had better be discontinued, and she must confine herself to
the piano. A little music is a nice accomplishment for any girl, but I
do not consider it quite lady-like when it begins to rival professional
playing; and as Mildred will not have to earn her living by her
instrument, I wish her to put her violin entirely aside, and turn her
attention to other things. Do you hear what I say, Mildred?"
"Yes, Uncle Darcy," answered Mildred, trembling all over, and feeling
that the moment had come. "But oh, please, I can't give it up, because
Uncle Colin and Aunt Alice want me to go on learning."
"Dr. Graham is no longer your guardian, and has nothing further to do
with the matter," replied Sir Darcy, frowning slightly.
"But he will when I go back," faltered Mildred.
"When you go back! Why, I thought you quite understood that I had taken
the entire responsibility of you. I offered you a home at The Towers,
and I always keep my word."
"You've been very kind--please don't think I've not been happy," said
Mildred, speaking in little gasps; "but I only came for the holidays--my
visit's over now--and I think I had better be going soon."
"Do I understand from what you say that you choose to return to Dr. and
Mrs. Graham in preference to staying here at The Towers?" asked Sir
Darcy, as if he could scarcely believe the evidence of his own ears.
"They want me," said Mildred, bursting into tears. "It's my own home,
and oh, I must go back!"
"I can't discuss the question with you now," said Sir Darcy. "I must
talk it over with your aunt. I'm certainly very much surprised to hear
that you should wish to leave us, but I consider you too young to settle
your own affairs, and I shall arrange the matter in whatever way I
consider best for your welfare. In the meantime you must attend to what
I have said as regards your music, and I don't expect to hear your
violin again in the house."
Poor Mildred left the room, feeling that she was in dire disgrace. She
knew that she had not explained herself properly, and that both her
uncle and aunt would think that she was making a very poor return for
their kindness to her. She could tell from the coldness of their manner
during the next few days that they considered her both unreasonable and
ungrateful, and the knowledge added to her unhappiness. She put the
Stradivarius safely away inside her wardrobe; she did not dare to
practise now, and only hoped that Sir Darcy would not take her violin
away from her altogether.
"I can't give it up, and I won't!" she said to herself. "No more than I
mean to give up Uncle Colin and Aunt Alice. I'd rather have my music
than anything they can offer me instead, and I shall go Back to Kirkton,
if I have to run away."
She wondered what Sir Darcy intended to arrange for her future, and
whether he would be able to keep her at The Towers against her will.
Would Uncle Colin be willing to resign her? And would she perhaps never
see either him or her aunt again? The misery of the prospect seemed
almost more than she could bear to contemplate, and she went about in a
state of such dejection that Violet, to whom the whole affair was
incomprehensible, rallied her continually on her low spirits.
Matters were at this crisis when Mildred one morning received a letter
in Mrs. Graham's handwriting--not in the thin envelope with the foreign
stamp that she had been in the habit of looking out for lately, but a
stout English one, bearing the familiar Kirkton postmark.
"Oh! They're back at last!" she cried with delight as she tore it open.
Dr. and Mrs. Graham had indeed returned to Meredith Terrace, and they
now wrote to Mildred to tell her that the time had come when she must
make her choice between their home and the Lorraines'.
"We do not wish to influence you in any way, darling," wrote her aunt.
"You must act entirely for your own happiness. If you feel that you
would rather remain at The Towers, it is our earnest desire that you
should do so; but if, on the other hand, you still cling to us, you will
find the very biggest welcome waiting for you here. Your uncle is
writing to Sir Darcy by this post, so no doubt he will speak to you
about the matter."
"As if I could want to give them up!" cried Mildred, kissing the
signature. "I'm so glad they are at Kirkton again, for they feel so much
nearer to me now. I wonder what Uncle Colin has written to Uncle Darcy,
and what he'll say to me?"
Mildred had not long to wait, for after breakfast that morning Sir Darcy
called her into the library, where he and Lady Lorraine had evidently
been consulting over a letter which he held in his hand.
"I wish to have a little talk with you, Mildred," he said, rather
stiffly. "I have here a communication from Dr. Graham, in which he
states that, as representing your father's family, he considers himself
to be your joint guardian. He is equally willing with myself to be
responsible for you, and it appears he is anxious that you should
receive a special musical training. I have talked the matter over with
your aunt, and we have come to the conclusion that it will be better to
allow you to decide for yourself whether you make your home with us or
with the Grahams. If you wish to stay here, you will have the benefit of
many social advantages which you would certainly not find at Kirkton;
but, on the other hand, I cannot undertake to encourage your study of
the violin. We are willing on our part to do our best for you, to give
you a good general education, to introduce you into society when you are
at an age to leave the schoolroom, and to make such provision for you as
to ensure that you should never be in want. More than this I cannot say,
and it only remains for you, therefore, to take your choice between your
two guardians."
"You've been very good to me, and so has Aunt Geraldine," said Mildred,
summoning up all her courage. "I can never forget your kindness, or
thank you enough for it; but Uncle Colin and Aunt Alice are just like my
father and mother. I've lived with them ever since I was a baby, and I
can't help loving them the best. I don't want to give up my violin
either; I feel as if it would be giving up my birthright. So please
don't think me ungrateful, but I feel that my home's at Kirkton. It's
where I've been brought up, and I'm really happier there. I know you
would have been very kind indeed to me if I had stayed at The Towers,
but as I may have my choice, I should like to go back to Meredith
Terrace."
Mildred had felt some apprehension as to how Sir Darcy and Lady Lorraine
would receive her decision, but much to her relief it seemed to be only
what they had expected, and they at once began to make arrangements for
her return.
"We shall not lose sight of you altogether," said Lady Lorraine kindly.
"Both Violet and I shall expect to hear from you sometimes, and you must
pay us a visit every now and then. I should be sorry if, after having
made an effort to be friends, we were to become estranged from one
another again, and I want you always to feel that if you like to come
and see us you will be welcome here."
Though she did not repent her choice, Mildred certainly felt a pang at
leaving all the many beauties of Castleford behind her. She had grown so
used to the ever-changing aspect of the lake, the calm of the silent
woods, the glory of the rugged fells and the rushing streams, that she
should miss them like old friends; they had inspired the poetical side
of her nature, and she owed a debt to them in increased powers of
imagination which she would some day realize. Coming at this period of
her life, the time spent at The Towers had been to her of untold
benefit; it had enlarged her views, altered her estimation of many
things, and adjusted her childish standpoint to a truer judgment of this
world's affairs. Both from the Lorraines and the Somervilles she had
learnt much, and it was only after she had returned to Kirkton that she
felt how great a change the visit had made in her.
"We don't want to lose you, dear, but I think you're quite right," said
Mrs. Somerville, as Mildred said good-bye at the Vicarage. "Rhoda will
miss you dreadfully, but we shall hope to meet again, and in the
meantime we wish you every possible success in your study of music.
You're going to work very hard, I know, and I expect when you next play
to us we shall be even more delighted than now. We shall all be anxious
to hear news of you, and you must never forget your friends at
Castleford."
As Mrs. Graham had said, a very big welcome awaited Mildred when she at
last returned to her old home. The thought that a parting had been
possible gave an added zest to their reunion, and both her uncle and
aunt held her in their arms as if they could scarcely let her go again.
"You are our own little girl now," said Uncle Colin, "and we intend to
keep you! We haven't very much to give you, darling, except a great deal
of love, but you're sure of that, at any rate; and if you think you'll
be happier here with us, you know you'll not find anyone who'd be fonder
of you than we are."
"There was never any choice about it at all," cried Mildred,
distributing her kisses alternately. "I meant from the first to come
back. I'd rather live here a thousand times than at The Towers. They
were very kind to me, but oh! it wasn't at all the same. I'm your girl,
not theirs; I always have been and always will be, so please don't try
sending me away again."
"You were right," said Dr. Graham that evening to his wife. "It was a
risky experiment, but I'm glad we tried it. Mildred has had her taste of
society, and of everything that wealth and position can offer; she knows
perfectly well what she's giving up, and if she would rather live with
us, and study her violin, she has made the choice of her own free will,
and there's the less likelihood of her repenting afterwards. I think,
however, that she really prefers our life to theirs, and will be happier
with some definite work than spending all her time in amusement. As you
predicted, the seed which we planted has sprung up. I hope we may live
to see great things from her in the future, and that she may never
regret the step she has taken."