LETTERS—VARIOUS.
FROM MAGGIE TO NELLIE.
April 15.
DARLING NELLIE,—We are all so glad to hear better accounts of
sweetest Mother, and that she likes the idea of going soon to Germany.
The weather has been so lovely this week, that tennis is beginning,
and I am getting several invitations. So I do hope it will keep fine.
Thyrza is asked too, but she won't go. She says she can't possibly
spare the time from lessons. It is so tiresome, for I don't half
like going alone—at least to some houses.
I wish Lady Denham and Sir Keith would come back, for tennis at The
Park is nicer than anywhere else, of course. Did I tell you about Miss
Conway meeting Sir Keith in the train, the day she came to us, and
getting him to see after her luggage or something of the sort? Poor
Millie says she could never have done such a thing. I believe Sir Keith
caught a bad cold that day, and that was why Lady Denham hurried off
with him to Torquay, and has stayed there ever since. If I were a man,
I should not like to have such a fuss made. Lady Denham seems to be
always getting into a fright about him.
I expect I shall hear very soon about my book now: and when that is
settled I mean to write another. Gladys does, you know. Has Gladys
said anything to you about my story? I thought it so funny of Gladys
not to say more, when I asked her how she liked it. Millie says Gladys
is jealous of anybody else writing books as well as herself: and I do
really think she must be—just a little bit. Else, why shouldn't she
like my story, as much as the others do?
I wonder if I shall have fifteen pounds for it, like Gladys. It would
be very nice: and I don't see why I shouldn't. I think writing books is
great fun.
Tell darling Mother I will write to her next. It is your turn now,
and Father is sending a long letter to Mother.—Ever your loving sister,
MAGGIE.
Private half-sheet, enclosed in, the above:—
I can't say more for Mother to see, of course, as she mustn't be
worried, but you know we settled that you should have private scraps
now and then only for yourself, darling, and I must tell you how
disagreeable things are. Miss Con will have everything just as she
chooses in the schoolroom; and poor dear Millie is so unhappy. Miss Con
seems quite to forget that Millie has been here so much the longest.
I do think it is too bad. Millie says she feels just like an intruder
now, when she has to go into the schoolroom.
Only think! Yesterday I found poor Millie crying so in my room, and
she said she had come there for comfort. It was something Miss Con had
done. I can't imagine what Mother finds to like so in Miss Con. She is
so cold and stiff. Thyrza defends her through thick and thin; but of
course Thyrza always must go contrary to everybody else. If I liked
Miss Con, Thyrza would be sure to detest her.
Elfie is the only one besides who pretends to care for Miss Con: and
that is only because she makes a fuss with Elfie. I'm sure I don't know
what Mother would say. Yesterday, Nona says, she actually told Elfie
to leave off doing her German translation for Fraulein, because she
"looked tired"—just imagine!—and made her lie down on the schoolroom
sofa, and Elfie went off sound asleep for more than two hours. And
Popsie wasn't allowed to practise, when Millie sent her down, for fear
of waking Elfie. And it must have been all a nonsensical fancy, for I
never saw Elfie look better than she did yesterday evening. We shall
have no end of fusses, if she is coddled like this.
FROM THYRZA TO NELLIE.
April 22.
MY DEAR NELLIE,—YOU told us all to write quite openly to you, so
long as we could manage not to worry Mother. So I am sending a sheet
enclosed in a letter from Gladys to you, as she says she has room.
I do wish something could be done about the way Millie goes on. It
is perfectly abominable. She sets herself against Miss Con on every
possible opportunity, and does her very best to set the girls against
her too.
The fact is, Miss Con doesn't flatter Millie, and Millie can't get
along without flattery. It is meat and drink to her. And Millie is
frightfully jealous of Miss Con, for being taller and better looking
and cleverer than herself—and also for being Mother's friend. I do wish
sometimes that Mother had just let things alone, instead of trying
to arrange for Miss Con to be like a visitor as well as a governess.
Millie counts her dining with us every night a tremendous grievance.
Then of course Miss Con does insist upon having schoolroom matters in
her own hands. I don't see how she could manage, if she didn't. Millie
has no reasonable ground for complaint. Miss Con is always kind and
polite to her, and tries to meet her fancies: but Millie does dearly
love to rule the roost; and of course she can't be allowed. She is
always stirring up mud; wanting to come into the schoolroom for music,
just when Miss Con is reading aloud or giving a class lesson; and
fidgeting and grumbling over her "rights," till things are unbearable.
Maggie always takes Millie's part; and I only wonder Miss Con stays on
at all. I do believe it is just for Mother's sake.
It's no earthly use my saying anything to Maggie. She is so cockered
up with having to manage the house, that she won't stand a word. If it
wasn't that Rouse and the other servants know exactly what to do, I
am sure I can't think what we should come to. It's the merest chance
whether Maggie remembers to give her orders in time. She forgets to
order dinner about twice a week: but happily it comes up just the same.
And Millie just twists Maggie round her little finger. The two have
endless gossips every night in Millie's room.
I can't tell you how wise Miss Con is with Elfie. She does not think
the Elf at all strong, and she is careful not to let her do too much,
and to make her have plenty of rest. But all the time there is no sort
of fussing or coddling: and she never encourages self-indulgence. She
seems to brace up Elfie, without saying much about it: and I never saw
Elfie trying so hard not to give way to nervous fads. Somehow Miss Con
has a way of making a pleasant duty of a thing, where other people only
give one a scolding.
I do wish you knew her, Nellie, for I think you would understand what
she is. It isn't often that Mother's favourites are mine. But Miss
Con is so unlike the common run of people, so earnest and good and so
clever. She seems to have read and heard and thought over everything.
And she helps me as nobody else ever did, in other ways—you know what
I mean. Her religion is so real; not mere talk. She makes one feel
that life may be made really worth living, and that one need not just
fritter it away in girlish nothings—like so many. I think I know better
now what "living to God" really is than I ever did before. I mean I
know what it is, seeing it in Miss Con. But of course all this is only
for yourself, and for nobody else. You know how I hate things being
passed round and talked over. If I did not feel perfectly sure of you,
I would not say a word.
You will know whether you can manage to write anything to Maggie,
which might make her behave more sensibly. I'm not at all sure that
you can, and quoting me would be no good at all. But anyhow it is a
comfort to speak out for once.
I don't send messages to Mother, as this is only for you, and the
others don't know me to be writing. I told Gladys I had one or two
things to say which you ought to know, though Mother must not: and she
is safe not to talk.—Your affectionate sister—
THYRZA.
FROM NELLIE TO MAGGIE.
April 29.
MY DEAREST MAGGIE,—I am going to enclose a note to you in one to
Gladys, as we arranged to do sometimes. If it goes in the usual way,
I know how difficult it is for you not to show it all round. Father
may see this, by all means: but please do not read it aloud at the
breakfast-table. However, I am forgetting,—you will not receive it then.
The dear Mother is much the same,—just so far better on some days,
that I can send tolerably cheerful accounts. But I do not see any steady
improvement; such as one might count upon for the future. I suppose we
ought hardly to expect it yet.
I am always thinking about you, darling, and about all the
difficulties that you must have to contend with. Managing a big
household, without any practice beforehand, is no light matter. I should
find difficulties enough in your place: and yet I have had some little
training now and then, when Mother has been away from home.
Your private half-sheet reached me safely, though I have not been able
to answer it till now. Lately Mother has seemed scarcely able to bear
me out of her sight; and if I am writing, she wants to know who it is
to and what I have said. And just now, too, she likes me to sleep with
her: so for days I have had scarcely a moment alone.
But I do feel very sorry for all the little rubs and worries you speak
of. It is so likely that things should be perplexing sometimes, with no
real head to be appealed to. For you would not like, any more than I
should, to be always bothering Father. And though I know you are doing
your very best, yet of course you are young, darling, and only just out
of the schoolroom, and you can't have full authority all in a moment
over the rest.
Mother's idea has been all along that Miss Conway would act in many
ways as a kind of temporary head. I don't mean in ordering dinner, and
so on: but in everything connected with you girls. I know it isn't very
easy to make things fit in: but, perhaps, the more you can appeal to
Miss Conway the better. And I think it ought to be quite clear that
Miss Conway has the entire arrangement and management of everything in
the schoolroom; and that Millie's plans must yield to hers.
You see, poor Millie has a rather sensitive temper, and she is a
little apt to imagine slights. Kind Miss Jackson gave in to her too
easily, more than was right. I am afraid Millie has been spoilt by her:
and we cannot expect quite the same from Miss Conway. I should be very
sorry to think that poor Millie was really unhappy: but I wouldn't,
if I were you, help in the nursing of all her small grievances.
I shall be delighted to hear that your book is successful, and that
you have fifteen pounds of your own. Writing books is not at all in my
line, for I am a very humdrum sort of individual; but it seems quite
a nice new amusement for you. I don't think Gladys would be jealous,
darling Maggie. Why should she? There is room enough in the world
for books by you both. Perhaps she was a little shy about giving too
decided an opinion.
Mother wants me, and I must stop.—Ever your loving sister, NELLIE.
FROM MISS CONWAY TO MRS. ROMILLY.
May 1.
MY DEAR MRS. ROMILLY,—I have not hitherto asked leave to write to
you, knowing how you need complete rest. But Maggie says that you are
expecting and wishing for a few lines.
Some day, when we meet again, I shall have much to say to you about
my first impressions of all your girls: though I must not trouble you
now with lengthy outpourings. On the whole, I think I gained a tolerably
fair notion of most of them from your previous descriptions. Only I
expected perhaps that Maggie would be rather more like yourself.
Thyrza is very hard at work over her various studies: and I am struck
with her force and energy. She will never turn into a limp pretty young
drawing-room lady, with no ideas in life beyond the last novel or the
latest fashion. But I do think there are grand possibilities in Thyrza.
There is abundance of steam, ready to be utilised. A few angularities
now do not mean much.
At present Nona's energies are expended more upon tennis than upon
literature. She delights, as you know, in any sort of "fun," and keeps
us all with her high spirits; and she takes life easily. That makes
one remark more the contrast of your little sensitive brave-spirited
Elfie. There is no taking anything easily in Elfie's case; but I think
I never saw a girl of sixteen make so hard and resolute a fight not
to be mastered. You will, I know, be glad to hear this: Nona seems to
be all bright sunshine without shadow, while in Elfie sunshine and
shade alternate sharply. She is a dear little creature, and intensely
conscientious.
You may be interested and amused to have these passing ideas of
mine. I could, of course, say much more, if I did not fear to tire you.
We work very steadily at lessons, and take long country rambles,
sometimes all together, sometimes in detachments.
How you will enjoy a few days at beautiful Heidelberg! I hope your
time in Germany will be as pleasant as your time in Italy has been.
You will understand that I do not expect or wish for any answer.
I hear of you constantly. Only try to get well, my dear Mrs. Romilly,
as soon as possible,—as soon as it is God's will. Then we may all hope
for the joy of welcoming you home.
Believe me still, your affectionate friend—
CONSTANCE CONWAY.
FROM MRS. ROMILLY TO MISS CONWAY.
May 7.
MY DEAREST CONSTANCE,—I have persuaded my watchful Nellie, with great
difficulty, to let me send a few words in answer to yours. I cannot get
out of my head a haunting fear that somehow you do not quite appreciate
my precious Maggie. It would grieve sue intensely if things were so.
Maggie is like me, reserved as to her deepest feelings: and it may be
that you have scarcely read as yet her true nature. She is capable
of giving such devoted love. Dear Constance, have you won it yet?
Forgive me for asking the question. Forgive a mother's anxieties. I
can scarcely judge from Maggie's letters, but I have had doubts, and
your letter has awakened real fear. Your mention of her is so slight,
compared with all that you say of my other dear girls. Does that—can
it—betoken indifference?
I know well how terribly my sweet Maggie is suffering at my absence,
though she will bear up courageously for the sake of others. And I want
you to see below the surface with her. I want you to know my child's
real worth and depth. She is so humble, so tender-spirited,—I could
not bear, dear Constance, to think that you and she should not fully
understand one another.
It rejoices me to hear that darling Elfie is really trying to be
brave. She is, as you say, a sensitive little puss—not with the acute
sensibilities and intense feeling of dear Maggie, so seldom allowed
to appear,—but excitable, nervous, fanciful, and soon overwrought.
Miss Jackson had not quite the right method of managing Elfie. I was
compelled at one time to make a strong stand, and to insist on no
spoiling. I trust to you for more firmness.
Nona's powers will develop. I am not at all afraid for that dear girl.
She is capable of anything: but sixteen is very young, and the high
spirits which seem to you such a disadvantage, I should call quite a
blessing. I wish I could look forward as hopefully for Thyrza as for
Nona. I do find there a strange hardness, which exists in no other
of my children. If you are able to influence her for good, so much
the better. But, dear friend, do think over what I have said about my
precious Maggie. I have so depended on your loving companionship for
her, now in her time of trial and loneliness. If you knew how that dear
girl has always clung to me and depended upon Nellie, you would realise
a little of what she must now be suffering. Try to win her heart, dear
Constance,—for my sake! I can assure you my Maggie's love is worth
having.
I must not write more. I shall suffer severely for this.—Believe me,
your warmly-attached friend—
GERTRUDE ROMILLY.