THE FAMILY COBWEB ON THE MOVE.
'Oh! the auld house, the auld house,
What though the rooms were wee;
Oh! kind hearts were dwelling there,
And bairnies full of glee.'
_Lady Nairn._
Every one except Edgar would, it was hoped, stay at home till after the
Epiphany, that most marked anniversary of birth and death.
Clement at first declared it impossible, for St. Matthew's could not
dispense with him on the great day; and Fulbert grinned, and nudged
Lance at his crest-fallen looks, when he received full leave of absence
for the next three weeks.
But Lance was bursting with reverse troubles. The same post had
brought him a note from his organist; and that 'stupid old Dean,' as
he irreverently called him, had maliciously demanded 'How beautiful
are the feet,' with the chorus following, and nobody in the choir was
available to execute the solo but Lance. He had sung it once or twice
before; and if he had the music, and would practise at home, he need
only come up by the earliest train on the Epiphany morning; if not, he
must arrive in time for a practice on the 5th; he would be wanted at
both the festival and Sunday services, but might return as early as he
pleased on Monday the 9th.
Lance did not receive the summons in an exemplary spirit. It is not
certain that he did not bite it. He rolled on the floor, and contorted
himself in convulsions of vexation; he 'bothered' the Dean, he
'bothered' the Precentor, he 'bothered' the Organist, he 'bothered'
Shapcote's sore throat, he 'bothered' Harewood's wool-gathering wits,
he 'bothered' his own voice, and thereby caused Clement to rebuke him
for foolish murmurs instead of joy in his gift.
'A fine gift to rejoice in, to make one be whipped off by an old fogey,
when one most wants to be at home! I thank my stars I can't sing!' said
Fulbert.
'I should thank mine if Bill Harewood had any sense,' said Lance,
sitting up in a heap on the floor. 'He can go quite high enough when he
pleases; only, unluckily, a goose of a jackdaw must needs get into the
cathedral just as Bill had got to sing the solo in "As pants the hart;"
and there he stood staring with his mouth wide open--and no wonder, for
it was sitting on the old stone-king's head! Wasn't Miles in a rage;
and didn't he vow he'd never trust a solo to Harewood again if he knew
it! Oh, I say, Wilmet--Fee, I know! Do let me bring Bill back with me
on Monday morning; and he could go by the six o'clock train. Oh, jolly!'
'But is he really a nice boy, Lance?' asked Wilmet, doubtfully.
'Oh, isn't he just? You'll see! His father is a Vicar-choral, you know,
lives in our precincts; his private door just opposite ours, and 'tis
the most delicious house you ever saw! You may make as much row as you
please, and nobody minds!'
'I know who Mr. Harewood is. Librarian too, is he not?' said Felix. 'I
have heard people laughing about his good-natured wife.'
'Aren't they the people who were so kind to you last year, Lance,'
asked Cherry, 'when you could not come home because of the measles?'
'Of course. Do let me bring him, Fee,' entreated Lance; 'he is no end
of a chap--captain of our form almost always--and such a brick at
cricket! I told him I'd show him the potteries, and your press, and our
organ, and everything--and it is such a chance when we are all at home!
I shall get the fellows to believe now that my sisters beat all theirs
to shivers.'
'Can you withstand that flattering compliment, Wilmet?' said Felix,
laughing. 'I can't!'
'He is very welcome,' said Wilmet; 'only, Lance, he must not stay the
night, for there really is not room for another mouse.'
The little girls had heard so much about Bill Harewood, that
they were much excited; but their sympathy kindly compensated
for the lack of that of the elder brothers. Fulbert pronounced
that a cathedral chorister could never be any great shakes; and
Clement could not forgive one who had been frivolous enough to be
distracted by a jackdaw; but Lance, trusting to his friend's personal
attractions to overcome all prejudice, trotted blithely off to the
organist-schoolmaster, to beg the loan of the music, and received a
promise of a practice in church in the evening. Meantime, he begged
Clement to play the accompaniment for him on the old piano. Neither
boy knew that it had been scarcely opened since their father's hand
had last lingered fondly upon it. Music had been found to excite their
mother to tears; Geraldine resembled Fulbert in unmusicalness, and
Wilmet had depended on school, the brothers on their choir-practice,
so that the sound was like a new thing in the house; nor was any one
prepared either for the superiority of Clement's playing, or for
the exceeding beauty and sweetness of Lance's singing. No one who
appreciated the rare quality of his high notes wondered that he was
indispensable; Geraldine could hardly believe that the clear exquisite
proclamation, that came floating as from an angel voice, could really
come from the little, slight, grubby, dusty urchin, who stood with
clasped hands and uplifted face; and Clement himself--though deferring
the communication till Lance was absent, lest it should make him
vain--confided to Wilmet that they had no such voice at St Matthew's,
and it was a shame to waste him on Anglicans.
Wilmet hardly entered into this enormity. She had made a discovery
which interested her infinitely more. Little Theodore, hitherto so
inanimate, had sat up, listened, looked with a dawning of expression
in the eyes that had hitherto been clear and meaningless as blue
porcelain, and as the music ceased, his inarticulate hummings continued
the same tune. Could it be that the key to the dormant senses was
found? His eyes turned to the piano, and his finger pointed to it
as soon as he found himself in the room with it, and the airs he
heard were continually reproduced in his murmuring sounds; that 'How
beautiful!' which had first awakened the gleam--his own birth-day
anthem--being sure to recur at sight of Lance; while a doleful Irish
croon, Sibby's regular lullaby, always served for her, and the 'Hardy
Norseman' for Felix, who had sometimes whistled it to him. Wilmet spent
every available moment in awaking the smile on the little waxen face
that had never responded before; it seemed to be just the cheering hope
she needed to revive her spirits, only she was almost ready to renounce
her journey with Alda for the sake of cultivating the new-found faculty.
No one would permit this; and indeed, so far from waiting to be
exhibited to Lance's friend, the two sisters received their _billet de
route_ on the very day he was expected; and there was no appeal, since
a housekeeper was to travel from Centry, who would take charge of them
to London, whence they would go down with Mr. Underwood. Poor Wilmet
was much dismayed at leaving Geraldine to what they both regarded as
the unprecedented invasion of a strange boy; indeed, the whole charge
made Cherry's heart quail, though she said little of her fears, knowing
the importance of Wilmet's having and enjoying her holiday; and Mr.
Audley promised extra aid in keeping order among the boys.
But as they came in that evening from the practice at the church, to
which Clement had insisted on their coming to hear Lance, Mr. Audley
beckoned Felix to his room with the words, 'There's a thing I want to
talk over with you.'
Felix recollected those ominous words to Mr. Underwood, and stood
warming his hands in dread of what might be coming. It was all he
feared.
'I wanted to say--I wanted to tell you--' began Mr. Audley. 'I would
not have chosen this time, but that I think it may save Wilmet
something to be able to tell her friends that the present arrangement
is to cease.'
'Wilmet!' exclaimed Felix; then bethinking himself. 'Was _that_ what
Tom Underwood meant? But you will not trouble yourself about such
rubbish.'
'Well, you see,' began the Curate, with heightening colour, 'it can't
be denied that your sister _has_ grown up, and that things are changed.'
'Mrs. Froggatt _did_ ask me if you were going on here,' said Felix,
still unconvinced; 'but can't we leave people to be _stoopid_ without
interfering with us?'
'Felix, you ought to be a better protector to your sisters. You would
not like to have my Lady remonstrating--nay, maybe writing to my
mother: she is quite capable of it.'
Felix's cheeks were in a flame. 'If people would mind their own
business,' he said; 'but if they _will_ have it so--'
'They are right, Felix,' said the Curate quietly; 'appearances must be
carefully heeded, and by you almost more than by any one. Your slowness
to understand me makes me almost doubtful about my further design.'
'Not going away altogether!'
'Not immediately; but things stand thus--Dr. White, my old tutor, you
know, and Fernan's, is nearly sure of the new Bishopric in Australia,
and he wants me.'
Felix hardly repressed a groan.
'Any way I should not go immediately; but when your father spoke to me
about the guardianship, he made me promise not to let it stand in the
way of any other call. I fancied he had mission work in his mind, and
it disposes me the more to think I ought not to hold back; but while
your dear mother lived, I would not have gone.'
'Yes, you have been very good to us,' was all Felix could say. 'But
when?'
'Not for some time; but I am not going this moment. Three months'
notice Mr. Bevan must have, and if he requires it, six; I must spend
some time at home, and very like shall not be off till you are of
age--certainly not if I find there is any difficulty in handing the
management of things over to you. How long I remain with you must
depend on circumstances. How much notice must you give before leaving
this house?'
'I do not know--half a year, I fancy. You think we ought to give it up?
I suppose it is too large for us now.'
'And you could take no lodger but one of the old-lady type.'
'Horrid!' said Felix. 'Well, we will see; but it will be a great stroke
on poor Cherry--she can remember nothing before this house.'
'It will be very good for her to have no old associations to sit
brooding over.'
'My poor little Cherry! If I saw how to cheer up her life; but without
your lessons it will be more dreary for her than ever!'
'Give her all you can to do, and do not be over-careful to keep your
anxieties from her knowledge. She is very much of a woman, and if you
leave her too much to herself, she will grow more introspective.'
'Wilmet and I have always wanted to shelter her; she never seems fit
for trouble, and she is so young!'
'Compared with you two venerable people!' said Mr. Audley, smiling.
'But her mind is not young, and to treat her as a child is the way to
make her prey upon herself. I wish her talent could be more cultivated;
but meantime nothing is better for her than the care of Bernard and
Stella. I hope you will not be in a hurry to promote them out of her
hands.'
'Very well; but she will miss you sorely.'
'I hope to see her brightened before I am really gone, and I am not
going to decamp from this house till some natural break comes. To do
that would be absurd!'
There was a silence; and then Felix said with a sigh, 'Yes, a smaller
house, and one servant. I will speak to Wilmet.'
'Perhaps you had better, so that she may have an answer in case she is
attacked.'
Wilmet was aghast at first, but a hint from Alda made her acquiesce,
not with blushing consciousness, but with the perception that the way
of the world was against the retention of the lodger; and sorry as she
was to lose Mr. Audley, her housewifely mind was not consoled, but
distracted, by calculations on the difference of expenditure. Again she
tried to beg herself off from her visit, in the dread that Felix would
go and take some impracticable house in her absence--some place with
thin walls, no cupboards, and no coal-hole; and she was only pacified
by his solemn promise to decide on no house without her. She went away
in an avalanche of kisses and tears, leaving Geraldine with a basketful
of written instructions for every possible contingency, at which the
anxious maiden sat gazing anxiously, trying to store her mind with its
onerous directions.
'Shall I give you a piece of advice, Cherry?' said the Curate, as he
saw the dark eye-brows drawn together.
'Oh, do!' she earnestly said.
'Put all that in the fire!'
'Mr. Audley!'
'And go by the light of nature! You have just as many senses as Wilmet,
and almost as much experience; and as to oppressing yourself with the
determination to do the _very_ thing she would have done under all
circumstances, it is a delusion. People must act according to their own
nature, not some one else's.'
'Certainly,' said Geraldine, smiling. 'I could never walk stately in
and say, "Now, boys!"--and much they would care for it if I did.'
'It seems to be a case for "Now, boys!" at this moment,' said Mr.
Audley; 'what can all that row be?'
'Oh, it must be that dreadful strange boy, Lance's friend,' sighed
Geraldine, almost turning pale. Then, trying to cheer up, 'But it is
only for the day, and Lance wished it so much.'
As she spoke, the shout of 'Cherry, here's Bill!' came nearer, and the
whole of the younger half of the family tumbled promiscuously into the
room, introducing the visitor in the midst of them. To the elders,
'no end of a chap' appeared, as Mr. Audley said, to mean all ends of
shock hair, and freckles up to the eyes; but when Fulbert and Lance had
whirled him out again to see the lions of Bexley, Robina and Angela
were overheard respectfully pronouncing that he was nice and spotty
like the dear little frogs in the strawberry-beds at Catsacre, and that
his hair was just the colour Cherry painted that of all the very best
people in her 'holy pictures.'
The object of their admiration was seen no more till the middle of
dinner, when all three appeared, immoderately dusty; and no wonder,
for the organist had employed them to climb, sweep fashion, into the
biggest organ-pipe to investigate the cause of a bronchial affection of
long standing, which turned out to be a dead bat caught in a tenacious
cobweb.
Shortly after, the guest was found assisting Angela in a tableau, where
a pen-wiper doll in nun's costume was enacting the exorcism of the said
bat, in a cave built of wooden bricks.
Clement was undecided whether to condemn or admire; and Geraldine, to
whom Edgar had lent some volumes of Ruskin, meditated on the grotesque.
Before there had been time for the fanciful sport to become rough
comedy, Lance had called off his friend to see the potteries; and to
poor Cherry's horror, she found that Robina had been swept off in the
torrent of boyhood. Clement, pitying her despair and self-reproach,
magnanimously offered to follow, and either bring the little maid back,
or keep her out of harm's way; and for some time Cherry reposed in the
conviction that 'Tina was as good as a girl any day.'
But at about a quarter to six, a little tap came to Mr. Audley's door,
and Angela stood there, saying, with a most serious face, 'Please, Mr.
Audley, Cherry wants to know whether you don't think something must
have happened.' And going upstairs, he found the poor young deputy in a
nervous agony of despair at the non-return of any of the party, quite
certain that some catastrophe had befallen them, and divided between
self-reproach and dread of the consequences.
'The very first day Wilmet had gone!' as she said.
It was almost time for Harewood's train, which made it all the more
strange. Mr. Audley tried to reassure her by the probability that the
whole party were convoying him to the station, and would appear when
he was gone; but time confuted this pleasing hypothesis, and Cherry's
misery was renewed. She even almost hinted a wish that Mr. Audley would
go out and look for them.
'And then,' he said, smiling, 'in an hour's time you would be sending
Felix to look for me. No, no, Cherry, these waiting times are often
hard, no doubt; but, as I fear you are one of those destined to "abide
by the tents" instead of going out to battle, you had better learn to
do your watching composedly.'
'O Mr. Audley! how can I? I know it must be very wrong, but how can I
not care?' And verily the nervous sensitive girl was quivering with
suspense.
'"He will not be afraid of any evil tidings, for his heart standeth
fast and believeth in the Lord,"' answered Mr. Audley. 'I see that does
not tell you _how_ not to be afraid; but I imagine that a few trusting
ejaculations in the heart, and then resolute attention to something
else, may be found a help.'
Cherry would have sighed that attention was the most impossible thing
in the world; but before she had time to do so, Mr. Audley had begun to
expound to her his Australian scheme. It excited her extremely; and as
a year and a half seemed an immense period of time to her imagination,
the dread of losing him was not so immediate as to damp her enthusiasm.
They had discussed his plans for nearly an hour before Cherry started
at the sound of the door, and then it was only Felix who entered. He
was irate, but not at all alarmed; and presently the welcome clatter of
steps approached, and in dashed the whole crew, mired up to the eyes,
but in as towering spirits as ever.
Their delay had, it appeared, been caused by a long walk that ensued
upon the visit to the potteries, and a wild venture of Will Harewood
upon impracticable ice, which had made him acquainted with the depths
of a horse-pond. There was none of the dignity of danger, for the
depths were shallows and the water only rose to his waist; but the mud
was above his ankles, and he had floundered out with some difficulty.
He wanted to walk back with no more ceremony than a water-dog; but
the Underwoods had made common cause against him, and had dragged him
to a cottage, where he had the pleasing alternative of an old woman's
blankets and petticoats while his garments were drying. He was as
nearly angry as a Harewood could be, Lance observed, declaring that
they should never have got him into the cottage without fighting him,
if Tina had not been so tall, and if Robin had not nearly cried; while
he, throwing off all responsibility, ascribed all his lateness to
his friend's 'maggots.' No more trains stopped at Bexley till after
midnight; but as to his absence causing any uneasiness at home, he
laughed at the notion, and was corroborated by Lance in averring that
they had too much sense; listening with undisguised amazement to the
elaborate explanations and apologies about Robina, which Clement was
scrupulously pouring forth to his brother and sister, saying that he
would have brought her home at once, but that he really did not like to
trust those boys alone.
Whereat Lance held up his hands with a dumb show of amazement that
convulsed Fulbert, Bill Harewood, and Robina herself, with agonies of
half-suppressed merriment. The boy had come in, prepared to be grave
and quiet, as knowing how lately affliction had come to the family,
and having been warned by Lance, that 'as to going on as we do in the
precincts, why it would make Cherry jump out of her skin.'
But by some extraordinary influence--whether it were the oddity of
William Harewood's face, or the novelty of his perfect _insouciance_
in the household whither care had come only too early--some infection
seized on the young Underwoods, and before the end of the evening meal,
if the 'goings on' were not equal to those in the precincts, they were,
at any rate, not far short of it.
Lance presently incited his friend to show 'how he had mesmerized
Lucy.' Clement made a horrified protest; and Geraldine looked alarmed
at her eldest brother, who began, 'Indeed, Lance, we can have nothing
of that sort here.'
'But, Felix, I do assure you there is no harm.'
'Upon my word and honour, there's not a spice of anything the
Archbishop of Canterbury could stick at,' added Will Harewood.
'It is impossible there should not be harm,' interposed Clement; but
the boys, including Fulbert, were in such fits of laughter, that Felix
began to suspect the seriousness of the performance; and when Lance
sprang at him, exclaiming, 'I'll go to Mr. Audley! Fee--Cherry--will
you be satisfied if Mr. Audley says we may?' Felix and Cherry both
consented; and Lance rushed off to make the appeal, and returned not
only with full sanction, but with Mr. Audley himself, come to see
the operation. This perfectly satisfied Felix, who even consented,
on the entreaty of his brothers, to become the first subject; and
Cherry knew that where the Curate and Felix had no scruples, she need
have none; but, for all that, she was more than half frightened and
uncomfortable--above all, when Clement, amid shouts of mirth from the
three schoolboys, indignantly marched away to shut himself up in his
cold bedroom.
By-and-by, after some unseen preparation--all the more mystifying
because carried on in the kitchen, where Sibby always used to keep
Theodore in a cradle till Felix was ready for him--Will Harewood caused
Felix to stand exactly opposite to him and to the spectators, with a
dinner-plate in his hand, and under injunctions to imitate the operator
exactly. Armed with another plate, William rubbed his own finger
first on the under side of the plate, and then, after some passes and
flourishes, on his own forehead, entirely without effect so far as he
himself was concerned; but his victim, standing meekly good-natured
and unconscious, was seen by the ecstatic audience to be, at each
pass, painting his own face with the soot from a flame over which his
plate had been previously held. The shrieks of amusement redoubled at
the perplexity they occasioned him, till they penetrated the upper
rooms; and suddenly a cry of horror made all turn to the door and see a
little white bare-footed figure standing there, transfixed with fright,
which increased tenfold when Felix hurried towards it, not yet aware
of the condition of his visage, until a universal shout warned him of
it; while Lance, darting in pursuit, picked up Bernard, and by his
wonderful caressing arts, and partly by his special gift of coaxing,
partly as the object of the little fellow's most fervent adoration,
made the scattered senses take in that it was 'all play,' and even
carried back the little white bundle, heart throbbing and eyes staring,
but still secure in his arms, to admire Felix all black, and then to be
further relieved by beholding the restoration of the natural hue at the
pump below stairs.
Then amid Sibby's scoldings and assurances that the child would catch
his death of cold, Bernard was borne upstairs again by Felix, who found
Clement in the nursery comforting the little girls, and preventing
them from following the example of their valiant pioneer. Felix, now
thoroughly entering into the spirit of the joke, entertained for a
moment the hope of entrapping Clement; but of course Bernard could not
be silenced from his bold and rather doubtful proclamation, that 'The
funny boy made Felix black his own face, and I wasn't afraid.'
'Naughty boy!' commented Stella. 'Poor Fee!'--and she reared up to kiss
him, and stroke the cheeks that had suffered such an indignity.
'What! It was only a trick?' said Clement slowly, as if half mystified.
'Of course,' said Felix; 'could not you trust to that?'
'I don't know. Cathedrals are very lax, and it had a questionable name.'
'O Clem! if it had not been in you before, I should wish you had never
gone to St. Matthew's. Come down now, don't let us disturb the little
ones any longer.--Good-night, Angel; good-night, little Star; we'll not
make a row to wake you again.'
Clement, in a severe mood, followed Felix downstairs; but some
wonderful spirit of frolic was on all the young people that night--a
reaction, perhaps, from the melancholy that had so long necessarily
reigned in that house, for though the fun was less loud, it was quite
as merry: a course of riddles was going on; and Clement, who really
was used to a great deal of mirth among the staff of St. Matthew's,
absolutely unbent, and gloried in showing that even more conundrums
were known there than by the house of Harewood. He was not strong
in guessing them; but then Will Harewood made such undaunted and
extraordinary shots at everything proposed, that the spirit of repartee
was fairly awakened, and Cherry's bright delicate wit began to play,
so that no one knew how to believe in the lateness of the hour, and
still less that this was the same house that grave Wilmet had left that
morning.
'Poor dear little Cherry!' said Felix to Mr. Audley, after helping her
upstairs, 'she is quite spent with laughing; indeed my jaws ache, and
she is ready to cry, as if it had been unfeeling.'
'Don't let her fancy that. We certainly were surprised into it
to-night; but I only wish for her sake--for all your sakes--that you
could keep the house merrier.'
Felix sighed. He too felt as if he had been betrayed into unbecoming
levity; and though he would not dispute, his heart had only become the
heavier. However, he did not forget; and when Cherry again breathed
a little sigh as to what Wilmet would think of their first day, he
stoutly averred that there was no use in drooping, and no harm in
liveliness, and that no one had ever been so full of joyousness as
their father.
She owned it. 'But--'
And that _but_ meant the effects of the three years that she had spent
as the companion of her mother's mournful widowhood, and of the cares
of life on her elder brother and sister.
It was true, as Mr. Audley said, that the associations of the rooms
were not good for her spirits in her many lonely hours and confined
life; and this reconciled Felix more than anything else to the proposed
change. He was keeping his promise to Wilmet of not seeking a house
till her return, when Mr. and Mrs. Froggatt, whose minds had been much
relieved by hearing that the lodger would consult the proprieties,
communicated to him their own scheme of taking up their residence at
a village named Marshlands, about two miles from Bexley, where they
already spent great part of the summer in a pleasant cottage and
garden which they had bought and adorned. Mr. Froggatt would drive
in to attend to the business every day, but the charge of the house
was the difficulty, as they did not wish to let the rooms; and they
now proposed that the young Underwoods should inhabit them rent-free,
merely keeping a bedroom and little parlour behind the shop for Mr.
Froggatt, and providing firing in them. With much more diffidence, at
his wife's earnest suggestion, the kindly modest old man asked whether
Miss Underwood would object to his coming in to take a piece of bread
and cheese when he was there in the middle of the day.
It was an excellent offer, and Felix had no hesitation in gratefully
closing with it, even without consulting Wilmet. Her reply showed that
a great weight was taken off her mind; and she was only longing to be
at home again, contriving for the move, which was to take place at
Lady Day. She was burning to study the new rooms; nevertheless, as by
kind Marilda's contrivance, she was taking lessons in German every day
from a superior Fraulein who had once been her cousin's governess, and
was further allowed to inspect the working of a good school, her stay
was extended, by Miss Pearson's entreaty, a full fortnight beyond what
had been intended. Nor had anything gone wrong in her absence. Even
the overlooking of the boys' linen, which she had believed impossible
without her, was safely carried on by Cherry, and all were sent off in
sound condition. No catastrophe occurred; and the continual occupation
and responsibility drove away all the low spirits that so often had
tried the home-keeping girl. She _did_ enjoy those _tête-à-tête_
evenings, when Felix opened to her more than he had ever done before;
and yet it was an immense relief to have the day fixed for Wilmet's
return, and how much more to have her walking into the room with all
the children clinging about her in incoherent ecstacy, which had not
subsided enough for much comprehension when Felix came joyously in.
'Hurrah, Wilmet! Mr. Froggatt sent me home a couple of hours before
time!'
'How very good! I met him in the street just now. Really, he is the
kindest old gentleman in the world!'
'I believe you dazzled him, Mettie; he says he did not know you till
you spoke to him, and if he had realised what a beautiful and majestic
young lady you were, he should hardly have ventured to propose your
taking up your abode under his humble roof.'
'That must be the effect of living with Alda,' said Wilmet merrily;
'but, oh! I am glad to be at home again!'
'And I never was so glad of anything in my life,' said Geraldine
eagerly.
'I am longing to go over the house, and know what to do about
furniture,' continued Wilmet.
'There! now W. W. is herself again!' said Felix.
'Mrs. Froggatt came and called on me,' said Geraldine. 'She talked of
leaving us the larger things that will not go into the cottage.'
'Which is well,' said Felix; 'for how much of ours will survive the
shock of removing is doubtful.'
'All the things that came from Vale Leston are quite solid,' said
Wilmet, bristling up.
'That carpet is solid darn,' said Felix. 'We tried one evening, and
found that though the pattern of rose-leaves is a tradition, no one
younger than Clem could remember having seen either design or colour.'
'You should not laugh at it, Felix,' said Wilmet, a little hurt; for
indeed her mother's needle and her own were too well acquainted with
the carpet for her to like to hear it contemned.
Felix and Cherry both felt somewhat called to order, as if their
mistress had come home again; and Cherry was the first to break silence
by inquiring after Wilmet's studies at Brighton.
'Oh yes,' said Wilmet, 'I do hope I am improved. That was all Marilda's
kindness. She quite understood how I missed everybody and everything;
and at last, one day, when I was wishing I could pronounce German like
Alda, and that Alda had time to give me some lessons--'
'Alda hasn't time?'
'Oh, you don't know how useful she is! She writes all the notes.
Marilda devised getting this Fraulein--such a good-natured woman! and
when she heard what I wanted, she got leave for me to come every day to
study the working of the school. I do believe I shall teach much better
now, if only I were not so ignorant. I never had any notion before how
little I knew!'
However, Wilmet's value had really risen so much in consequence of
these instructions, that Miss Pearson arranged that she should lay the
French and German foundations, and prepare the scholars, and should
receive half a sovereign a half year from each girl whom she thus
instructed, being the moiety of 'extra.' Moreover, the head teacher
talked of retiring, and her succession was promised to Wilmet--a
brilliant prospect, that the sight of Alda's grandeur did not make her
contemn.
Wilmet's anxious mind was well satisfied by her inspection of the new
quarters, which, among other conveniences, had that of shortening
by ten minutes her walk to school. The family apartments were all
upstairs, the space below being entirely taken up by the business, and
the kitchens were under ground. The chief sitting-room upstairs was
unfortunately towards the street, and had a northern aspect; it was a
spacious room, with three large windows filled with boxes of flowers,
and contained a big table and two sofas, which, with the carpet and
curtains, would remain well covered up. Folding-doors led into a
smaller room, with a south window towards the little garden, where Mrs.
Froggatt generally sat, and which had been used for the dining-room.
There were two bedrooms besides on the same floor, one of which would
remain untouched for Mr. Froggatt; and above these, there was a large
nursery, and more rooms than had been ever furnished. Rent, rates,
taxes, and repairs, all off her mind! Wilmet felt as if prosperity
were setting in; and she was the first to make the audacious statement
that they need not part with Martha, and indeed, that the house could
not be kept in order, nor dinners cooked fit for Mr. Froggatt, by
Sibby single-handed. And Cherry made up her mind that they were like a
family of caterpillars moving their cobweb tent; Angela, seeing such an
establishment of young tortoise-shells, in their polished black, under
their family web, had asked, 'Which was their brother Felix?' and the
name was adopted.
So a time of much business and excitement set in; and the lengthening
spring evenings were no sinecure to Wilmet, as the flitting day
approached, being rather hurried on by the old bookseller, who wanted
to be at Marshlands in time to admire his hyacinths and sow his
annuals. Mr. Audley would take rooms at the Fortinbras Arms for the
remainder of his stay at Bexley; and indeed, there was a good deal to
break the old habit of constantly depending on him, for his brother's
young wife was slowly dying in London, and the whole family seemed
instinctively to turn to him for comfort and advice, so that he was
obliged to be continually going backwards and forwards.
On the 24th of March, when he came down by an afternoon train, he found
the house door open, the steps scattered with straw; and after looking
in and seeing his own parlour intact, and with a cheerful fire, he
pursued his way upstairs, and there found the sitting-room bare except
for a sort of island consisting of the sofa, on which Geraldine lay
rolled in cloaks and shawls, trying to amuse the twins by a feeble
attempt to sing
'Weel may the boatie row,'
while making paper boats for Stella to drag by strings upon the smooth
boards.
'Eh, Cherry, are you the Last Man, or the Last Rose of Summer?'
'The last of the caterpillars,' said Cherry, smiling, but with effort.
'Do you see Stella's fleet--just thirteen?'
'Making omens, foolish child!' but though Stella was eagerly pointing
and explaining, 'Tat Tella's boat--tat Tedo's--tat brother's--tat
Angel,' and so on, the word _foolish_ was not directed to the little
one, but to the grey eyes heavy with unshed tears, that rested
wistfully upon a wreck that had caught upon a nail and lay rent and
ragged.
'Pray don't look which it is,' said she.
'Certainly not; I hate auguries.'
'Do you think there is nothing in them?'
'I think there is nothing in this room but what ought to be in mine.
Do you expect me to stand discussing superstition in this horrible raw
emptiness? Here,' picking up Theodore, 'I'll come back for you.'
'Oh no, thank you, let me get down by myself; he cannot be left alone
in a room.'
'Come, Stella, and take care of him.'
'That's worse; she leads him into mischief. We are fox, goose, and
cabbage. Please give me my crutch; Wilmet put it out of reach because
she said I was destroying myself.'
'You are tired to death.'
'Oh no; but one can't sit still when so much is going on. Oh, how
delicious!' as after an interval she arrived, and found Mr. Audley
winding up a musical-box, which Theodore was greeting with its own
tunes, and Stella with a dance and chant of 'Sing box--sing box;' and
then the two sat listening to the long cycle of tunes which would hold
Theodore entranced for any length of time.
After a short inquiry and a reply as to the sister-in-law's state,
and a few words on the progress of the flitting, there was a silence
while Mr. Audley read the letters that had come for him in his absence,
and Cherry's face became more and more pensive. At last, when Mr.
Audley laid down his letters, and leant against the chimney-piece, she
ventured to say, 'Is it wrong?'
'Is what wrong?' said the Curate, who had quite forgotten the subject.
'To care about omens.'
'That depends. To accept them is sometimes necessary; to look out for
them is generally foolish and often wrong.'
'Sometimes necessary?' said Cherry eagerly.
'Sometimes experience seems to show that in good Providence a merciful
preparation is sent not so much to lead to anticipations, as to bring
the mind into keeping with what is coming, and, as it were, attune it.'
'So that little things may be constantly types of great future ones?'
'My dear Cherry, I said _not_ constantly.'
'Just let me tell you. Sibby says that the very day we all came into
this poor old house, just as the omnibus stopped, there was the knell
ringing overhead, and a funeral coming up the street. She knew it was
a token, and burst out crying; and dear Mamma, who you know never shed
tears, turned as white as a corpse, as if she was struck to the heart.'
'And your father?'
'Oh! Sibby said he just stood in the doorway, lifted his hat as the
funeral passed, and then well-nigh carried Mamma, with the baby (that
was Fulbert) in her arms, over the threshold, and smiled at her,
saying, "Well, mother, what better than to have found our home till
death!" So you see he did believe in it.'
'I see he wanted to cheer her spirits, not by saying "stuff and
nonsense," but reminding her that there are worse things than death.
Have you an omen on your mind, Cherry? Have it out; don't let it sink
in.'
'Only _please_ don't laugh at me. Indeed, it was not my own doing, but
Stella's fancy to have a boat for each of us, when she was launching
them; and I could not help recollecting how we are all starting out and
away from our first home.'
'Stella's was not a _very_ perilous ocean.'
'That was a comfort at first; and Stella tried to draw all the thirteen
lines together, but they tangled, and one thread broke, and that boat
was left behind; and one poor crooked ill-made thing fell over, and was
left at home because hindering all the rest, and even Stella knew that
was me, and--' her voice quivered, 'one was caught on a nail, and torn
into a wreck! Now, can I help thinking, though you'll just call them
newspaper-boats, dragged by a baby on a dry dusty floor?'
'Watched by a weary fanciful damsel,' said Mr. Audley, sitting down
by her, 'who does not know a bit more than she did before, that all
are launching on a sea, and if it _is_ a rougher one, there's a better
Guiding Star than Stella Eudora to lead them, and they have compasses
of their own--ay, and a Pilot. And if there are times when He seems to
be asleep in the ship--why, even the owner of the unseaworthy boat left
at home can show the Light, and pray on till the others are roused to
awaken Him.'
'I wish there had not been that wreck,' she sighed.
'What seems a wreck need not be really one,' said Mr. Audley. 'It may
be the very way of returning to the right course. And by and by we
shall see our Master standing on the shore in the morning light.'
At that moment there was a sound at the door--Felix had accompanied
Cherry's chair, to bring her and Theodore to the new home. There
was too much haste for the wistful last looks she intended: she
was deposited in the chair with Theodore on her knee, Stella
trotting after, with Felix and Mr. Audley, who was coming to see the
inauguration. St. Oswald's Buildings were left behind, and she was
drawn up to the green private door, beside the shop window; Wilmet
hurried down and took Theodore from her; Felix helped her out, and
up the narrow steep staircase, which certainly was _not_ a gain, but
when landed in the drawing-room, the space seemed to her magnificent.
And their own furniture, the two or three cherished portraits brought
from Vale Leston, their father's chair, their mother's sofa, the silk
patchwork table-cover that had been the girl's birth-day present to
Mamma, the bookcase with Papa's precious books, made it seem home-like.
'The mantelpiece is just the same!' cried Cherry, delighted, as she
recognised all the old ornaments.
The next moment her delight was great at the flower-stands, which Mr.
Froggatt had kindly left full of primulas, squills, and crocuses;
and when she looked out from the back room into the little garden,
where Mr. Froggatt's horticultural tastes had long found their sole
occupation, and saw turf, green laurels, and bunches of snowdrops and
crocuses, she forgot all Stella's launch!