I have told all our experiences in papering the room together, because
they seemed to come better that way; but, of course, lots of other
things have been happening at the same time. One evening we went to a
concert, and another time some friends came in after dinner, and we
played games and had music. I sang a great deal, and everyone seemed to
like listening, and my dress was the prettiest in the room, and all the
men wanted to talk to me, and it was most agreeable.
On Sunday we went to an ugly town church, but the vicar had a fine, good
face, and I liked his sermon. He seemed to believe in you, and expect
you to do great things, and that is always inspiring. Some clergymen
keep telling you how bad you are, and personally that puts my back up,
and I begin to think I am not half so black as I am painted; but when
this dear man took for granted that you were unselfish and diligent, and
deeply in earnest about good things, I felt first ashamed, and then
eager to try again, and fight the sins that do so terribly easily beset
me. I sang the last hymn in a sort of fervour, and came out into the
cool night air, positively longing for a battle in which I could win my
spurs, and oh dear, dear, in ten minutes' time, before we were half-way
home, I was flirting with Wallace, and talking of frivolous worldly
subjects, as if I had never had a serious thought in my life!
It's so terribly hard to remember, and keep on remembering when one is
young, but God must surely understand. I don't think He will be angry.
He knows that deep, deep down I want most of all to be good!
Wallace is nice and kind and clever, and I like him to like me, but I
could never by any possibility like him--seriously, I mean! I can't
tell why; it's just one of the mysterious things that comes by instinct
when you grow up to be a woman. There is a great gulf thousands of
miles wide between the man you just like and the man you could love; but
sometimes the man you could love doesn't want you, and it is wrong even
to think of him, and then it's a temptation to be extra nice to the
other one, because his devotion soothes your wounded feelings.
I suppose Miss Bruce would call it love of admiration, and wish me to
snub the poor fellow, and keep him at arm's length, but I don't see why
I should. It would be conceited to take for granted that he was
seriously in love, and I don't see why I shouldn't enjoy myself when I
get a chance. It's only fun, of course, but I do enjoy playing off
little experiments upon Wallace, to test my power over him, and then to
watch the result! For example, at lunch-time I express a casual wish
for a certain thing, and before four o'clock it is in my possession; or
I show an interest in an entertainment, and tickets appear as if by
magic. It is quite exciting. I feel as if I were playing a thrilling
new game.
The room is almost furnished, and it looks sweet. One can hardly
believe it is the same dreary little den that I saw on that first
evening. We stole, (by kind permission), one or two chairs, a writing-
table, and a dear little Indian cabinet from the overcrowded drawing-
room, and with some help from Midas manufactured the most scrumptious
cosy-corner out of old packing-cases and cushions covered with rose-
coloured brocade. We put a deep frill of the same material, mounted on
a thin brass rail, on the wall above the mantelpiece, and arranged
Lorna's best ornaments and nick-nacks against this becoming background.
It did not seem quite appropriate to the garden idea to hang pictures on
the walls, which is just as well, as she hasn't got any, but I bought
her a tall green pedestal and flower-pot and a big branching palm as my
contribution to the room, and as she says, "It gives the final touch of
luxury to the whole." I could wish for a new fender and fire-irons, and
a few decent rugs, but you can't have everything in this wicked world,
and really, at night when the lamp-light sends a rosy glow through the
newly-covered shade, (only muslin, but it looks like silk!) you could
not wish to see a prettier room.
Lorna is awfully sweet about it. She said to me, "It was your idea,
Una. I shall always feel that it was your gift, and every pleasant hour
I spend here will be another link in the chain which binds us together.
This visit of yours will be memorable, in more ways than one!" and she
looked at me in a meaning fashion which I hated. How more ways than
one, pray? I hope to goodness she is not getting any foolish notions in
her head. She might know me better by this time.
I don't know why it is, but I am always depressed after a letter from
home. Mother reports that there is no improvement in Vere's health, and
that her spirits are variable--sometimes low, sometimes quite bright and
hopeful. Mr Dudley is very good in coming to see her, and his visits
always cheer her up. He asked after me last time, hoped that I was
enjoying myself and would not hurry back. I am not wanted there
apparently, and here they all love having me, and implore me to stay on.
I wasn't sure if I wanted to, but I've decided that I will since that
last letter arrived. I told Mrs Forbes this morning that I would stay
a fortnight longer, and she kissed me and looked quite unreasonably
relieved. I can't see how it matters much to her!
Such a curious thing happened that night, when Wallace and I were
talking about books, and discussing the heroine in a novel which he had
given me to read.
"Did she remind you of anyone?" he asked, and when I said "No," "Why,
she is you to the life! Appearance, manner, character--everything. It
might have been meant for a portrait," he declared. "I was reading it
over last night, and the likeness is extraordinary."
I privately determined to read the book over again on the first
opportunity to discover what I seemed like to other people. The heroine
is supposed to be very pretty and charming, but personally I had thought
her rather silly, so I did not know whether to feel complimented or not.
I determined to introduce the subject to Lorna, and see if she could
throw any light upon it, and she did! More light than I appreciated!
"Oh, I liked Nan very well," she said, "but not nearly so much as
Wallace did. He simply raved about her and declared that if he ever met
a girl like that in real life he should fall desperately in love with
her on the spot. She is his ideal of everything that a girl should be."
"Oh!" I said blankly. For a moment I felt inclined to tell Lorna
everything, but something stopped me, and I am thankful that it did. It
would be so horrid to feel she was watching all the time. For once in
my life I was glad when she went away, and I was left alone to think.
"Desperately in love!" Can Wallace really be that, and with me? It
makes me go hot and cold just to think of it, and my heart thumps with
agitation. I don't feel happy exactly, but very excited and important.
I have such a lonely feeling sometimes, and I do so long for someone to
love me best of all. At home, though they are all kind enough, I am
always second fiddle, if not third, and it is nice to be appreciated! I
could never care for Wallace in that way, but I like him to like me. It
makes things interesting, and I was feeling very flat and dejected, and
in need of something to cheer me up. Of course, I don't want to do
anything wrong, but Wallace is so young, only twenty-four, and has no
money, so he couldn't think of being married or anything silly like
that; besides, I've heard it is good for boys to have a fancy for a nice
girl--it keeps them steady.
In any case, I have promised to stay on for another fortnight, and I
couldn't alter my mind and go away now without making a fuss, and if I
stay I can't be disagreeable, so I must just behave as if Lorna had
never repeated that stupid remark. I dare say, if the truth were known,
Wallace has fancied himself in love with half-a-dozen girls before now,
and it would be ridiculous of me to imagine anything serious. Anyway, I
don't care. I have thought of nothing but other people for months back,
and they don't seem to miss me a bit, but only hope I won't hurry back.
I'm tired of it. Now I am going to enjoy myself, and I don't care what
happens!