"I ALWAYS ADMIRED FRANKNESS."
"Hold your head up, Flo, and don't be nervous," whispered the widow, as
they walked down the long corridor, the waiter going in front. He
paused opposite number 24, flung the door open, and announced in a loud
voice, "Mrs. Aylmer and Miss Florence Aylmer," and then shut the door
behind the two ladies.
The widow walked nervously up the room and then stood confronting her
sister-in-law. The elder Mrs. Aylmer had just risen from a sofa on
which she had been lying. Mrs. Aylmer the less was quite right in
prophesying her sister-in-law would be a large woman in the future; she
was a large woman now, stoutly built and very fat about the face. Her
face was pasty in complexion without a scrap of color in it, and her
eyes were of too light a blue to redeem the general insipidity of her
appearance; but when she spoke that insipidity vanished, for her lips
were very firm, and were apt to utter incisive words, and at such
moments her pale blue eyes would flash with a light fire which was full
of sarcasm, and might even rise to positive cruelty.
"Sit down, Mabel," she said to Mrs. Aylmer. "Now Florence, I wish to
say a few words to you. You will have tea with me, of course, Mabel,
you and your daughter."
"Thank you very much indeed, Susan," said Mrs. Aylmer the less. "It
will be a real treat," she added _sotto voce_, but loud enough for her
sister-in-law to hear.
"H'm! I have tea at four o'clock," said Mrs. Aylmer the great; "I will
just ring the bell and give orders; then we shall have time for a nice
comfortable conversation. My dear," she added, turning to her niece,
"would you oblige me by ringing that bell?"
Florence rose and did so. There was an ominous silence between the
three until the waiter appeared to answer the summons.
"Three cups of tea and some thin bread and butter at four o'clock,"
said Mrs. Aylmer the great, in an icy tone of command.
The waiter said, "Yes, ma'am," bowed, and withdrew.
Mrs. Aylmer the less thought of the hearty tea she and Florence would
make at home, the shrimps and the brown bread and butter, and the honey
and the strong tea with a little cream to flavor it; nevertheless, her
beady black eyes were fixed on her sister-in-law now with a look which
almost signified adoration.
"Don't stare so much, Mabel," said Mrs. Aylmer; "you have not lost that
unpleasant habit; you always had it from the time I first knew you, and
I see your daughter has inherited it. Now then, Florence, to business."
"Yes, aunt, to business," replied Florence, very brusquely.
Mrs. Aylmer stared at her niece.
"You speak in a very free-and-easy way," she said, "considering your
circumstances."
Florence colored angrily.
"My circumstances," she answered; "I don't quite understand."
"Has not your mother told you about my, alas! unavoidable change of
plans?"
"I have, Susan, I have," said the widow, in an eager, deprecating
voice. "I told dear Florry the day after her arrival. By doing
without meat and fruits and vegetables I contrived to pay her
third-class fare from Cherry Court School to Dawlish, and on the night
of her arrival I told her about your sensible letter."
"H'm, I am glad you think it sensible," said Mrs. Aylmer; "sensible or
not, it is unavoidable. You leave Cherry Court School at the end of
next term, Florence, and I am about to write to your governess, Mrs.
Clavering, to give her due notice of your removal. I hope, my dear,
you have profited much by the excellent education which I have given
you during the last three years."
"I don't know that," replied Florence, in a sulky tone. "Where is the
good," she said to herself, "of trying to please this horrid Aunt
Susan, and I quite hate Mummy to fawn on her the way she is doing. I
at least cannot stoop to it. No; and I will not."
"You have not profited by your time at school," replied Mrs. Aylmer the
great; "what do you mean?"
"I have done my best, of course," replied Florence, "but I am quite a
young girl still, only just fifteen. Girls of fifteen are not
educated, are they, Aunt Susan? Were you educated when you were
fifteen?"
"Oh, Flo, Flo," said the mother, in a voice of agony; "pray do forgive
her, Susan."
"I wish you wouldn't interrupt, Mabel," said Mrs. Aylmer, lying back in
her luxurious chair as she spoke, and folding her fat hands across her
lap. "I like Florence to speak out. I hate people to fawn on me."
"Dear! dear!" said Mrs. Aylmer the less. She rolled her black eyes,
then lowered them and fixed them on the carpet. It was impossible to
understand Susan, she was a most extraordinary woman. If, after all,
Florry was on the right track and won the day!
"Girls of fifteen are not specially well educated," proceeded Mrs.
Aylmer, fixing her eyes again upon Florence's face, which was now a
little red; "and I don't intend your education to be finished. I have
been fortunate enough to gain you admittance into an excellent school
for the daughters of the poor clergy. You are to go as a pupil
teacher; you will not receive any remuneration for the first two years,
but you can continue to have lessons in music, French, and German."
"And what about English?" said Florence.
"You are to impart English. I conclude that at your age you at least
know your mother tongue thoroughly."
"But that's just it, I do not," said Florence. "I know French fairly
well for a girl of my age, and I have a smattering of German, and am
fairly fond of music. I don't care for English History nor English
Literature, and I have not studied either of them; and my grammar is
very weak, and my spelling--well, Aunt Susan, I can't spell properly.
I am sorry, but I inherit bad spelling from my mother."
"Oh, Florence!" cried the poor little widow.
"I do, Mummy; you know perfectly well that you have never yet spelt
'arrange' right, nor 'agreeable.' You always leave out one of the 'e's'
in the middle of agreeable. Oh, I have had such a fight with those two
words, and I do inherit my bad spelling from you. Well, Aunt Susan,
what more do you wish me to say?"
"I cannot admire your manners, Florence, and as to your appearance, it
leaves very much to be desired."
Mrs. Aylmer looked very calmly all over Florence. Florence suddenly
sprang to her feet, her temper was getting the better of her. She
inherited her temper, not from her mother, for the little Mummy had the
easiest-going temper in the world, but from her father. John Aylmer
when he was alive had been known to plead his own cause with effect on
more than one occasion, and now some of his spirit animated his young
daughter. She rose to her feet and spoke hastily.
"I am not good-looking," she said, "and I know it; I cannot help my
features, God gave them to me and I must be content with them. My nose
is snub and my mouth is wide, but I have got some good points, and if I
were your daughter, Aunt Susan--and I am heartily glad I'm not your
daughter; I would much, much rather be Mummy's daughter, poor as she
is--but if I were your daughter you would dress me in such a fashion
that my good points would come out, for I have good points; a nice
complexion, fine hair and plenty of it, and fairly good eyes, and my
figure would not look clumsy if I wore proper stays and properly-made
dresses; and my feet would not be like clodhoppers, if I had fine
well-made boots and silk stockings; and my hands----"
"You need not proceed, Florence," said Mrs. Aylmer, rising abruptly.
"Mabel, I pity you; I should like to wash my hands of your daughter,
but I cannot forget my promise to my poor dead husband, who begged me
on his deathbed not to allow either of you to starve. 'For the sake of
the family, Susan,' he said, 'don't let my sister-in-law Mabel and her
daughter Florence go to the workhouse.' And I promised him, and I mean
as long as the breath animates this feeble frame to keep my word.
"As long as I live, Mabel, your fifty pounds a year is secured to you,
and I shall allow you, after Florence leaves that expensive school,
which has cost me from one hundred and twenty to a hundred and forty
pounds a year, to give you an additional fifteen pounds, thus raising
your income to the very creditable one of sixty-five pounds per annum.
As to you, Florence, having gone to the enormous expense of your
education and having placed you at Mrs. Goodwin's excellent school at
Stoneley Hall as pupil teacher, I wash my hands of you."
"Very well, Aunt Susan, that's all right," replied Florence. "I never
did like you and I like you less every time I see you, but I want to
say something on my own account. It is quite possible that I may not
go to Mrs. Goodwin's school at Stoneley Hall. There is a chance that I
may be able to remain at Cherry Court School quite independent of you,
Aunt Susan."
"Yes, Flo, that's right," said Mrs. Aylmer the less, rising now to her
feet and giving her daughter an admiring glance. "I always knew you
had spirit, my darling; you inherit it from your poor dear father. If
John were alive he would be proud of you, now, Flo. Tell about the
Scholarship, Florry, my pet; tell about the Scholarship, dear."
Mrs. Aylmer the great was now so speechless with astonishment that she
did not open her lips. Florence turned and faced her.
"It is your fault that I am plain," she said, "you have not done what
my uncle asked you to do. You have paid my fees at school, but you
have not made it possible for me to grow up nice in any sense of the
word. You have always thrown your gifts in my face, and you have never
given me decent clothes to wear. It is very hard on a girl to be
dressed as shabbily as I am, and to be twitted by her companions for
what she cannot help; and although you kept me at Cherry Court School,
there have been times over and over when I hated you, Aunt Susan, and
but for my dear little Mummy I would have left the school and earned my
bread as a dressmaker or a servant. But there is a chance that I may
continue to be a lady and hold the position I was born to without any
help from you. A great Scholarship has been offered to the girls of
Cherry Court School. It is offered by Sir John Wallis, the owner of
Cherry Court Park."
"Sir John Wallis! The owner of Cherry Court Park! Why, I know him,"
said Mrs. Aylmer. "I was staying in the same house with him last
year--a most charming man, delightful, good-looking, most agreeable
manners, and such a brave soldier! Do you mean to tell me, Florence,
that you know him?"
"He is the patron of our school; I thought you were aware of that
fact," said Florence.
"Your manners, my dear, are simply odious, but I listen to your words
with interest. Ah! here comes the tea. Put it on that table, waiter!"
The waiter appeared, carrying the tray waiter-fashion on his hand. It
contained three very small cups of weak tea, and about five tiny wafers
of the thinnest bread and butter. There was a little sky-blue milk in
a jug, and a few lumps of sugar in a little silver basin. Mrs. Aylmer
glanced at the meal as if she were about to give her sister-in-law and
her niece a royal feast. "This is most exciting," she said; "we will
enjoy our tea when you, Florence, have explained yourself. So you know
Sir John Wallis. When you see him again pray remember me to him."
"Oh, I don't know him personally," said Florence; "there is a girl at
the school he is very fond of, but I just go in with the others. He is
giving the Scholarship, however."
"Go on, my dear; you interest me immensely. With judicious dress and a
little attention to manners, you might be more presentable than I
thought you were at first, Florence. Take this chair near me; now go
on. What has dear Sir John done?"
"He is offering a Scholarship to the girls of Cherry Court School, and
the girl who wins the Scholarship is to receive a free education for
three years," said Florence. "I am trying for the Scholarship, and if
I win it I shall remain at Cherry Court School for three years at Sir
John's expense. I shall be known as the Cherry Court Scholarship girl,
and be much respected by my companions; so you, Aunt Susan, will have
nothing to say to my subsequent education. I shall be very pleased to
wash my hands of you. I think, Mummy, that is about all, and we had
better go now. There will be a better tea for us at home, and I for
one am rather hungry."
Mrs. Aylmer the great was quite silent for a moment, then she spoke in
a changed voice.
"Florence," she said, "you need much correction; you are a very
bombastic, disagreeable, silly, ignorant girl, but I will own it--I do
admire spirit, you have a look of your father, and I was very fond of
poor John; not as fond of him as I was of my own dear Tom, but still I
respected him. Had he lived you would have been a different girl, but
your unfortunate mother--"
"If you say a word against mother I shall leave the room this instant,
and never speak to you again," said Florence.
"Really, my dear, you do go a little beyond yourself--I who have done
so much for you; but that Scholarship is interesting. Florence, you
had better go home; I will have a word with your mother by herself.
First of all, however, are you likely to win it?"
"I vow that I'll get it," said Florence.
"Florence is really clever, dear Susan," said Mrs. Aylmer the less, now
bursting in in an irrepressible voice; "I believe Sir John is much
struck with her. He did an extraordinary thing, and at the Cherry
Feast, which always ends the summer term at the school, had a
preliminary examination, and dear Flo, with two other girls, is
eligible to compete for the great Scholarship. They call themselves
the lucky three--their names are Kitty Sharston, Mary Bateman, and
Florry. Yes, Florence is very clever."
"She has a good-shaped forehead," said Mrs. Aylmer; "I greatly admire
genius. You can go, Florence; I'll speak to your mother."
"I think you had better come too, Mummy," said Florence; "surely it is
not necessary for you to remain."
But Mrs. Aylmer glanced at her sister-in-law and then at Florence, and
decided to remain.
"No, no, dear child," she said, "I have a great deal to say to your
Aunt Susan; she has the kindest heart in the world, and the fact is, I
am looking forward to my cup of tea. What delicious tea it looks! It
is so kind of you, Susan, to give it to me."
Florence stalked to the door without a word, opened it, and shut it
after her. When she had done so the widow glanced at the rich Mrs.
Aylmer.
"You must forgive the dear child, Susan," she said.
"Forgive her! there is nothing to forgive," said Mrs. Aylmer.
"But she was very rude to you."
"I prefer her rudeness to your fawning, Mabel, and that I will say
frankly."
"Fawning! Dear Susan, you certainly have a very peculiar way, but
there--"
"We need not talk about my ways; my ways are my own. I wish to say
something now. If my niece Florence wins the Scholarship, after her
term at Cherry Court has expired I shall send her abroad for two years,
paying all expenses of her education there. On her return, if she
turns out to be a highly-educated, stylish woman, I shall take her to
live with me, taking a house in London and giving her every advantage.
I intended to do this for Florence if she turned out good-looking; she
will never be good-looking, but she may be a genius which is equally
interesting. All depends on her winning the Scholarship. If she loses
it she goes to Mrs. Goodwin's school at Stoneley Hall, having clearly
proved to me that her abilities are not above the average. If she wins
it I do what I say, and in the meantime I wish you, my dear Mabel, to
get her one or two pretty dresses, a nice hat, and a few suitable
clothes. Or, stay, I have not the least doubt that your taste is
atrocious; give me her measurements, and I shall write to my own
dressmaker in London. Florence shall return to Cherry Court School as
my niece, and I will write to Sir John Wallis myself with regard to
her. Now, I think that is all. Oh, you would like your tea. Take it,
pray, and hand me a cup. That silly girl! but I always did admire
frankness."