SEEKING A PLACE.
Mrs. Hipple came into the room and found Lady Rose among her azure
cushions, on which she had sunk with a deep sigh, and a blush of
shame, at being so caught in the midst of her wild thoughts.
"Dear, dear, I wonder how your ladyship got in without my knowing
it," she said, picking up the jaunty little hat which the girl had
flung on the carpet. "We thought Sir Noel had taken you for a long
drive."
"No matter, you need have been in no haste to come," said the young
lady, turning her face from the light.
"But this poor hat. See how the lace and flowers are crushed together.
Such a beauty as it was, and worn for the first time. But I do think
it is past mending."
"Let them throw it aside, then," answered Rose, without looking at the
pretty fabric of chip, lace, and flowers, over which Mrs. Hipple was
mourning. "What is a hat, more or less, to any one?"
"Nothing to your ladyship, I know; but I haven't seen the young master
admire anything so much this many a day."
"What! What were you saying, Mrs. Hipple?"
"Nothing; only what a pity it was that you would fling things about in
this fashion."
"But something you said about--about--"
"No, nothing particular, only when your ladyship stopped at the door,
and said 'good-morning' to the young gentleman, he observed that he
had seldom seen you look so bright and pleasant; when I answered, that
it was, perhaps, owing to the hat which had just come down, and was,
to my taste, a beauty, he said, 'yes, it might be, for something made
you look uncommonly lovely.'"
Lady Rose started up. She was no longer ashamed of her flushed face,
but reached out her hand for the hat, which had, indeed, been rather
severely crushed by its fall on the floor.
"It is a shame!" she said, eying the pretty fabric lovingly. "But I
did not think it so very pretty. No, no, Mrs. Hipple, I will do it
myself. Such a useless creature as I am. There, now, the flowers are
as good as ever; it only wanted a touch or two of the fingers to bring
them all right; and I rather like to do it."
She really did seem to like handling those sprays, among which her
fingers quivered softly, as butterflies search for honey-dew, until
they subsided into a loving caress of the ribbons, which she smoothed,
rolled over her hand, and fluttered out with infinite satisfaction.
"There, you fractious old Hipple, are you satisfied now?" she
questioned, holding up the renovated hat on one hand; then, putting it
on her head, she looked in the glass with new-born admiration of its
gracefulness. "You see that it is none the worse for a little knocking
about."
"It is just a beauty. No wonder Mr. Walton's eyes brightened up when
he saw it."
Rose took the dainty fabric from her head, and put it carefully away
with her own hands; at which Mrs. Hipple smiled slyly to her own
shadow in the glass. Directly after this the kind old lady went down
to the housekeeper's parlor, for she was not above a little family
gossip with Mrs. Mason, and rather liked the cosy restfulness of the
place. She found the good dame in an unusual state of excitement.
"A young woman had been there," she said, "after a place as
lady's-maid. She had heard in the village that one would be wanted at
'The Rest,' and came at once, hoping to secure the situation."
"A lady's-maid!" cried Mrs. Hipple. "Why, the girl is distraught--as
if we took servants who come offering themselves in that way at 'The
Rest.'
"That was just what I told her," said Mrs. Mason, laughing as
scornfully as her unconquerable good nature permitted. "I gave the
young person a round scolding for thinking the thing possible. She
answered that she thought no harm of seeking the place, as it was only
in hopes of bettering herself; for she was disgusted with serving wine
and beer at the 'Two Ravens.'"
"Serving wine and beer? Why, Mason, you astonish me," said Mrs.
Hipple, lifting her hands in horror of the idea.
"Then I broke out," said the housekeeper, "and rated her for thinking
that any one fresh from the bar of a public house could fill the place
of a lady's gentlewoman, who should be bred to the duties; at which
the girl gave her head a toss fit for a queen, and said that some day
she might have a higher place than that, and no thanks to anybody but
herself."
"This must have been a forward girl, Mason. I wonder you had patience
with her."
"Oh, as to that, it takes something, and always did, to make me demean
myself below myself," said the housekeeper, folding her arms firmly
over her bosom; "besides, she came down wonderfully in the end, and
pleaded for a housemaid's place, as if that was the thing she had set
her heart on from the first; and it was more than I could do to make
her understand that no such person was wanted at 'The Rest.' Then she
wanted me to promise that she might have the first opening, if any of
the maids should not suit, or might leave."
When Mrs. Hipple returned to the room where she had left Lady Rose,
this singular event was in her mind, and she spoke of it with the
freedom always awarded to the beloved governess who had now become the
companion and friend of her pupil. Lady Rose gave but little
attention to the subject. Her mind was too thoroughly occupied with
other thoughts for any great interest in matters so entirely foreign
to them; but she seemed to listen. That was enough for the kind old
lady, who continued:
"The girl went off at last, quite disappointed, because she wasn't
taken on at once. She was going over to Jessup's, she said, to have a
chat with his daughter. I wonder that Ruth should not choose better
company. She is a modest thing enough, and might look to be a lady's
maid in time, without stepping very much out of her sphere, being, as
it were, bred in the shadow of 'The Rest,' and gifted with more
learning than is needful to the place."
Here Lady Rose was aroused to more vivid interest. She looked up, and
listened to every word her companion uttered.
"You are speaking of Jessup's pretty daughter," she said.
"Yes, of that slender young thing, Mason's goddaughter. Some people
think her almost beautiful, with her great black eyes, and cheeks like
ripe peaches. Then her hair is quite wonderful, and she walks like a
fawn."
"You make her out very beautiful," said Lady Rose, with a quick
increase of color. "Perhaps she is--having seen her always since we
were both little girls, I have not observed the change as others
might."
"Of course, how should your ladyship be expected to think of her now
that you are the first lady in the county, and the girl only what she
has always been?"
Lady Rose shook her head in kindly reproof of this speech.
"We must not say that, Mrs. Hipple," she said. "Ruth was my playmate
as a little girl, a sweet-tempered, pretty friend, whom you kindly
allowed to study with me as an equal."
"No, no. Never as an equal. That was impossible. She was bright and
diligent."
"More so than I ever was," said Lady Rose, smiling on the old woman.
"Ah, but you learned so quickly, there was no necessity for
application with you. One might as well compare her dark prettiness
with--"
Lady Rose held up her hands, with a childlike show of resistance.
"There, there. If you draw pleasant comparisons, dear Hipple, it is
because you love me, but that takes nothing from Ruth, who must be
remarkably good-looking, or people would not admire her so much."
"Admired, is she? Well, I know little of that. Of course, the servants
rave about her beauty in the housekeeper's room; I rebuked one of them
only yesterday, for saying that the gentlemen who visit at 'The Rest'
go by the gardener's cottage so often only to get a look at the
daughter, pretending all the time that it is the great show of roses
that takes them that way."
"Were you not a little hard with the man, Hipple? Sir Noel's
guests--those who joined in the hunt--certainly did seem greatly
struck by her appearance as we rode by the cottage."
"No, no, the man deserved a reprimand for saying that his young master
was made angry by their praises, when they saw her standing like a
picture in the porch, for them to look at."
"You were right--excuse me, you were quite justified in rebuking
him," said the lady, in breathless haste. "It was an impertinence."
"And, of all places, to say it in the housekeeper's room," added the
old lady, "and Mason to permit it; but she thinks her goddaughter a
paragon, and means to make her the heiress of all her savings. Indeed,
she intends to give her something handsome when she is married to
young Storms."
"Her marriage with young Storms!" faltered Lady Rose, going to a
window in hopes of concealing her agitation; for the blood was burning
in her face, and she dared not meet the eyes of that shrewd old lady.
"Is that anything but a childish romance?"
"It is a settled thing, my lady. We shall have a wedding at the
cottage soon after Jessup gets well."
As Mrs. Hipple said this, she glided out of the room, clasping her
hands softly together as she went down the corridor, and smiling as
such women will, when conscious of happiness adroitly conferred.
Then Lady Rose looked shyly around, saw that she was quite alone, and,
coming out of her covert, began to walk the room up and down, up and
down, like some fawn let loose in a pasture of wild flowers. Then came
a knock at the door. Lady Rose stole back to the window, determined
that no one should see her radiant face before the intruder came in.
It was a servant bearing a message from the sick-chamber.
"The young master was wholly awake now. Would Lady Rose come and read
to him a while?"
Would Lady Rose come and read to the man she loved? Would she accept
the brightest corner in Paradise, if offered to her? Ah, how her face
brightened! How soft and glad was the smile that dimpled about the
mouth, so sorrowful only a little time before! With a quick glance she
looked into the mirror, and made an effort to improve the amber cloud
of hair that was most effective in beautiful disorder. Struck with the
loveliness of her own face, she gave up the effort and went away.
"He has sent for me," was her happy thought. "He did not mean to
reject my violets. It was only because he was not quite awake. He has
sent for me! He has sent for me!"
Poor girl! She did not know that Sir Noel had been pointing out the
unkindness of his action to the invalid, and that this message was one
of almost forced atonement.