by May Baldwin
Produced by Malcolm Farmer, Mary Meehan and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
A CITY SCHOOLGIRL AND HER FRIENDS
BY MAY BALDWIN
Author of 'Corah's School Chums,' 'Two Schoolgirls of Florence,''Sarah's School Friend,' 'The Girls' Eton,' &c.
WITH SIX COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONSBy T. J. Overnell
LONDON: 38 Soho Square, W.W. & R. CHAMBERS, LIMITEDEDINBURGH: 339 High Street1912
Edinburgh:Printed by W. & R. Chambers, Limited.
She ran off, turning round to wave her hand to hersister.]
CONTENTS.
I. HARD FACTS
II. THE NEW LAIRD OF LOMORE
III. FRIENDS IN NEED
IV. UPS AND DOWNS
V. THE NEW LIFE
VI. IN LONELY LODGINGS
VII. KIND-HEARTED LONDONERS
VIII. GOOD MANNERS
IX. THE ENTERPRISE CLUB
X. BLEAK HOUSE HOSTEL
XI. 'THE RANK IS BUT THE GUINEA'S STAMP'
XII. 'SAVE'
XIII. YOUNG HOUSE-HUNTERS
XIV. OFF TO A HOME AGAIN
XV. EVA'S PRESENTIMENT
XVI. VAVA'S BUSINESS LETTER
XVII. A SUNDAY AT HEATHER ROAD
XVIII. STELLA'S SURPRISING REQUEST
XIX. THE JUNIOR PARTNER
XX. VAVA ON FRIENDS
XXI. EVA'S CONDUCT AND ITS SAD EFFECTS
XXII. DANTE'S IDYLL
XXIII. STELLA'S PRIDE
XXIV. BADLY BEGUN AND MADLY ENDED
XXV. UNDER A CLOUD
XXVI. MORE CLOUDS
XXVII. THE VALUE OF A GOOD CHARACTER
XXVIII. VAVA GETS A SHOCK
XXIX. THINGS STRAIGHTEN OUT
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
She ran off, turning round to wave her hand to her sister
'Vava,' said Stella, 'do not say such dreadful things'
'I'm quite well, thank you, Mr. Jones; but my algebra isn't.'
'My lamb, you should not answer your sister as you do'
'Where have you been, Vava Wharton?' demanded Miss Briggs
Stella goes to the prize distribution
A CITY SCHOOLGIRL AND HER FRIENDS.
CHAPTER I.
HARD FACTS.
'These are the facts, Miss Wharton; hard facts no doubt, but you wishedfor the truth, and indeed I could not have hidden it from you even if Ihad wished to do so.' So said a keen but kindly faced old gentleman, ashe sat in an office surrounded by despatch and deed boxes whichproclaimed his profession to be that of a lawyer.
The young lady to whom these remarks were addressed, and who was apretty girl of twenty-one, dressed in deep and obviously recentmourning, now replied, with a sad smile, 'But I did not want you to hideanything from me; I wanted to hear the truth, Mr. Stacey, and I thankyou very much for telling it to me. Then I may understand that we havejust fifty pounds a year to live upon between the two of us?'
'That is all, I am sorry to say; at least all that you can count uponwith any certainty for the present, for the shares, of which I have beentrying to tell you, at present bring in nothing, and may never do so. Ofcourse there is the furniture, which might fetch a hundred or two, forthere are two or three valuable pieces; and, besides that, your fatherhad some nice china and some fine old silver,' observed Mr. Stacey.
'Oh I could not sell that!' said the girl hastily, and her colour rose.
The old lawyer shook his head. 'It is not a case of _could_; it is acase of _must_, my dear young lady,' he said not unkindly.
'But why? You say there are no debts to pay. Why, then, should we partwith all that is left to us of home?' argued the girl, the tears cominginto her eyes.
'Why? Because you must live, you and Vava, and I don't quite see how youare to do that on fifty pounds a year--twenty-five pounds apiece--evenif we get your sister into a school where they would take her onhalf-terms as a kind of pupil-teacher,' explained the lawyer patiently.
'Send Vava to a school as a pupil-teacher, to be looked down upon anddespised by the other girls who were richer than she, to waste half hertime in teaching, and let her go away from me? I could not do it!' criedthe girl impulsively. Then, as she saw the old man, who had been alifelong friend of her father's as well as his lawyer, shrug hisshoulders, as much as to say she was hopeless, she added more quietly,'We have never been parted in our lives, Mr. Stacey, and we are sadenough as it is,' and her lips quivered. 'She would be so lonely withoutme, and I without her; and surely it is as cheap for two to livetogether as one? Besides, I am going to earn money; I was my father'ssecretary for three years, and he always said I was a very good one. Ican typewrite quite quickly; I have typewritten all his letters for himfor the last three years and copied all his manuscripts, and I scarcelyever made a mistake.'
Her listener looked doubtful for a moment; but now that she had somepractical suggestion to make, the interview began to take a morebusiness-like appearance, and the old man was ready to listen to her.
'Yes,' he said, 'your father often told me that you were better than anytrained secretary he ever had, and I have no doubt your three years'experience has been useful to you; but unfortunately there is no onehere who happens to want a secretary'----
Before he could get any further, Stella Wharton interrupted eagerly,'But we do not think of staying here, and I have thought the wholematter over. I knew I should have to earn my own living, and of coursethe proper place to do that is in London.'
Mr. Stacey's look of consternation would have been amusing if he had notbeen so serious. 'You and Vava go and live in London alone! The thing isimpossible!'
'Why impossible?' asked Stella quietly. 'Hundreds and thousands of girlsdo it who are not even as old as I am.'
'Yes, but not girls like you,' said the lawyer. He stopped from sheerinability to express what he meant and felt, which was that such anexceptionally pretty girl as Stella Wharton ought not to start lifealone in London and be thrown on her own resources, even though she wasa thoroughly trustworthy girl and had a younger sister to live with her.'You do not know anything about London, or even what a town is like; youhave lived in this little Scotch village (for it is not much more), asfar as I know, all your life, and the thing would never do. It's--it'simpossible!' he wound up; 'you could not possibly do it!'
'It is not a case of _could_; it is a case of _must_,' quoted Stella,with the ghost of a smile, as she repeated the old man's words of a fewminutes ago.
'Yes, yes,' he said; 'you must live, I know that; but even supposingthat it would be possible for you to earn your living, and even to earnit as a secretary, you would not be able to earn enough at first to keepyourself, let alone keep your sister as well.'
'We could live on very little,' pleaded Stella; and here she brought outfrom her purse a slip from a newspaper. 'I thought of answering this.'So saying, she handed it to the old lawyer, who read an advertisementfor a secretary in a City office who could typewrite quickly andcorrectly, and transcribe difficult manuscripts in French and English.
'You might be able to do this,' said the lawyer, 'for, to be sure, youare both excellent French scholars; but a City office'----He lookedmost disapproving. 'Well,' he said, 'there is no harm in answering it;or suppose you let me answer it for you?'
'I was going to ask you whether you would give me a testimonial; but ifyou would write for me it would be very, very kind of you,' repliedStella.
'Very well,' said Mr. Stacey with a sigh, 'I shall write to this man;but no
doubt he will have hundreds of other applications. The pay isgood, and girls who can typewrite are to be found by the thousandnowadays.'
'Yes,' said Stella eagerly; 'but he says "an educated person," and Iread in the papers the other day that three-quarters of the girls who goin for typewriting cannot even write their own language, so theyprobably would not be able to write French.'
'But thirty-five shillings a week! How are you going to live uponthirty-five shillings a week?' inquired the lawyer.
'It will be forty-five shillings a week,' corrected Stella.
'Well, forty-five shillings a week between two of you; that is not ahundred and fifty pounds a year. It would take that for you alone tolive in London.'
'I have calculated it all out, Mr. Stacey; and if you would not mindlooking at this sheet of paper I think you will see that we could doit;' and Stella handed the lawyer a second piece of paper, upon which,in a very neat and legible hand, the girl had written out her idea ofthe probable cost of living for two people in London in lodgings.
'Rent ten pounds a year!' ejaculated the lawyer, reading the first itemon the list in a tone of mingled surprise and amusement. 'That shows howmuch you know of London and its prices. Where do you suppose you wouldget lodgings for two people at eight shillings per week? Why, a coupleof rooms would cost a guinea at least.'
Stella Wharton's expressive face fell as she said, 'I didn't know that.The Misses Burns have a very nice little house here for twenty pounds ayear, and I thought lodgings could not possibly be as much, for we wouldbe content with two rooms at first.'
The lawyer read the items through with as grave an air and asattentively as if he were reading an important document dealing withthousands of pounds; and when he had finished he handed it back to her,saying, 'I see, you have thought the matter out carefully, and, at allevents, there is no need to settle anything just yet, for you haveanother month before everything can be settled up here. I shall writeto-night in answer to this advertisement.' And then shaking hands verykindly with the girl, the lawyer showed her out.
Stella made her way back to the old Manor House, in which she had livedwith her father, mother (who had died some years ago), and her youngersister Vava, ever since she was born, and where a week ago her fatherhad suddenly died, leaving his two daughters, as will have been seen,very inadequately provided for. At the gate, or, more correctlyspeaking, upon the gate, was Vava, who swung lightly over and into theroad to meet her sister.
'Well,' she said, 'what had Mr. Stacey to say?'
'A great deal,' said Stella gravely, as Vava took her arm and hung on toher elder sister.
There were seven years between the two girls, the gap between havingbeen filled by three brothers, who had all died.
'Stella,' said Vava in a coaxing tone, as they turned in at the gate andwalked up the long drive, 'you need not be afraid of telling me aboutit, because I know it all--everything.'
'What do you know?' inquired Stella, smiling in spite of her sadness.
'I know everything that Mr. Stacey said to you,' announced the youngergirl confidently.
'How can you possibly know that, Vava, seeing that I have not told you asingle word and that you were not at the interview?' Stella was alwaysvery matter-of-fact, and Vava would say that she was slow.
'I knew what he was going to say before he ever opened his mouth. He wasgoing to tell you that we had lost all our money, and that this ManorHouse is not ours any longer, that I must go to a cheap school, and thatyou must go and be a governess, or something horrid like that,'announced Vava.
'Vava, who told you?' cried Stella, surprised out of her caution, forshe had not meant to tell her younger sister the real facts of the case.
'Mrs. Stacey has been here, and she told me that there were some otherpeople coming to the Manor House. When I said we didn't want them, shesaid the Manor House was not ours, and that we should not be able tokeep them out. When I asked her why, she said because we had no money.'
'Mrs. Stacey was quite wrong, and she had no business to speak to youlike that. I am sure Mr. Stacey would be very angry if he knew,' saidStella, who looked rather angry herself. 'Besides which,' she added in acalmer tone, 'we have not lost all our money; we have more than athousand pounds. And you were not quite right about Mr. Stacey either,for he did not suggest that I should go out as a governess, and he is atthis minute answering an advertisement for a secretaryship for me.'
Vava was silent for a minute; then she said in a queer little voice,very unlike her usual cheerful one, 'But he did say I was to go to aschool, didn't he?'
'Would you dislike that very much?' said Stella, more to try her sisterthan because she had much doubt of the answer.
'I should hate it, Stella; I would rather scrub floors than be acharity-girl with a red cloak and a round hat and short hair, withperhaps people giving me pennies as I walked along the street.'
'There is no chance of your going to a charity school,' replied Stella,'there will be enough money to send you to a proper boarding-school, ifthat is necessary, for there are lots of schools where you do not paymuch more than fifty pounds a year; but I should like you to live withme in London, and go to day-school there.'
'Oh Stella, how lovely! and we could go to the Zoo and Madame Tussaud'sand the Tower every day for a walk!' cried Vava with delight.
'I am afraid we could not go daily expeditions, Vava, because I shouldbe in an office all day and you will be at school; but we should haveSaturdays and Sundays together, and anything would be better than beingparted--wouldn't it?--even if we are poor.'
Vava did not answer, but the squeeze that she gave to Stella's arm wasquite answer enough. They had arrived at the door of the Manor House,and the old housekeeper came forward to meet them.
'My dears, come into my little room and have some tea; you must beperished with cold, and I have got some lovely scones that cook has madeon purpose for you. Come straight in, won't you, Miss Stella?'
'Thank you, nursie,' said Stella with a pleasant smile, as she followedthe housekeeper to her room; while Vava danced along in front of the oldwoman, calling her all sorts of affectionate names for herthoughtfulness in getting hot scones for them on this cold day.
It was not a usual thing for the girls to have tea with the housekeeper,though they did sometimes do it. But Stella, though surprised at the waythe housekeeper asked them, thought it was to save them from having alonely tea in the dining-room without their father; and to thehousekeeper's relief she went straight to the latter's room, and partookvery cheerfully of the homely meal set before them. Twice during themeal Stella thought that she heard voices in the passage which she didnot recognise as belonging to the servants, who, indeed, were not in thehabit of speaking in such loud tones about the house; but she paid noattention to it.
The housekeeper, who had formerly been the girls' nurse, and was stillcalled 'nursie' by them, talked more than usual.
At last Vava observed, 'Nursie, I believe you are feverish.'
'Miss Vava!' exclaimed the old woman, 'what can you be thinking about?What makes you think I am feverish? I am not a bit hot, unless this bigfire is making my face a bit red.'
'I am not talking about your face; it is your voice that is feverish,and your eyes are glittering dreadfully,' said Vava.
'Vava,' said Stella, 'do not say such dreadful things.' She also lookedat the housekeeper, who did look nervous, if not feverish, as Vava hadsuggested, and whose face certainly got very flushed as a knock came tothe door.
The butler, throwing it open, said to a gentleman and a lady whoaccompanied him, 'This is the housekeeper's room, sir, and this'----Herehe caught sight of Stella and Vava, and with a muttered, 'I beg yourpardon, young ladies, I am sure,' he shut the door, and his footstepswere heard hurrying down the passage.
