by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER III.--PREPARING FOR THE HEIR
"I wonder, Rachel," said Kitty, "I wonder when the heir will be found."
Rachel had curled herself up in a luxurious arm-chair, was devouring anew story-book, and was in consequence displeased with Kitty for herquestion.
"Let me read, Kitty. In half an hour I have to go to my drill, and thenpracticing, and then learning those tiresome lessons. I don't care if anheir is never found; do let me read!"
"There's another one coming to-morrow," continued Kitty in a by no meansabashed voice; "his name is Philip and his mother is coming with him. Iheard Aunt Grizel telling Mrs. Eyre all about it, and, Rachel--oh,Rachel, do listen! they are to sleep in the bedroom directly under AuntKatharine's and Aunt Grizel's room in the tower."
This last piece of information was sufficiently interesting to Rachel tomake her fling down her book with an impetuous gesture.
"What a tiresome Kitty you are. I never can read when you come into theroom. I was in a most exciting part, but never mind. My half-hour ofquiet will be gone in no time. I had better keep the book until I cansteal away into the forest and read it in peace."
"But isn't it exciting," pursued Kitty, "to think that they are going tosleep in the tower bedroom?"
"And his name is Philip!" repeated Rachel, "Philip is the name of thisone--the last was Guy, and the one before was Ferdinand, and the onebefore that was Augustus. I want an heir to come of the name ofZerubbabel. I like Zerubbabel, and it's uncommon. What a pity this one'sname is Philip!"
"Oh, he's not the real heir," said little Kitty, shaking her headsolemnly; "he's only another make-believe; but it's rather exciting hismother coming too and the tower room being prepared. Rachel, aren't youalmost certain that when the real, true heir comes his name will beRupert? Why, of course it must be Rupert--mustn't it, Rachel?"
"I don't know and I don't care," answered Rachel, tumbling out of herluxurious chair and shaking back her dark, untidy locks. "How old isPhilip, Kitty? Poor Philip, I wish him joy of the place! He'll find itdull enough, and he'll find Aunt Grizel very tiresome and Aunt Katharinevery sweet, but very stupid, and he'll wish he wasn't the heir athousand times in the twenty-four hours. How old is he, Kitty-cat? Justtell me quickly, for I must go."
"He's eight years old," replied Kitty in a very interested tone; "that'sanother thing that's exciting--his being so near to my age. Aunt Grizelsays that he'll be a sort of a companion for me. I do hope he'll be anice little boy."
"I don't care anything at all about him," said Rachel; "he may be theheir or he may not. I'm not in the least interested. I don't seeanything exciting in the fact of a stupid little boy coming to Avonsydewith his mother; it's a slow place and he'll have a slow life, andthere's nothing to interest me about it."
"Oh, Rachel, I never could guess that you found Avonsyde slow. If youdo, why do you laugh so merrily and why do you look so gay?"
"I never said that I found Avonsyde dull," answered Rachel, turninground with a quick, flashing movement. "No place is slow or dull to me.But I'm not going to stay here; I'm going to school, and then afterwardI'm going right round the world looking for mother. Oh, that's mydrill-sergeant's bell! What a worry he is! Good-by, Kitty-cat."
Rachel skipped out of the room, banging the door after her, and Kittyclimbed into her chair, and leaning back in it shut her pretty blueeyes.
It was five years now since the children had come to Avonsyde, and Kittyhad absolutely forgotten the dismal day of their arrival. She knew thatshe had a mother, for Rachel reminded her of the fact; but she couldrecall no outline of her face.
Rachel not only spoke of her mother, but remembered her. Vivid memoriesof a grave, sweet, sad face came to her at intervals, and when thesememories visited the child longings came also. Why had her mother goneaway? Why were Kitty and she practically motherless? Who were the wickedpeople who had divided this mother and these children?
When these thoughts came Rachel's dark little face would work withstrong emotion; and if Aunt Griselda or Aunt Katharine happened to benear, she would feel tempted to answer them defiantly and to favor themwith flashing, angry glances.
"I miss my mother!" she would sob sometimes at night. "I wish--oh, how Iwish I could give her a long, big, great kiss! Well, never mind: when Iam old enough I'll go all round the world looking for her, for I knowshe is not dead."
These storms of grief did not come often, and on the whole the childrenhad spent five very happy years at Avonsyde. Aunt Grizel and AuntKatharine had each in her own way been good to them--Aunt Grizel erringon the side of over-severity, Aunt Katharine on the side ofover-indulgence. But the children had no fear in their natures, and wereso bright and frank and charming that even Aunt Katharine's pettingcould not do them any harm. They were well taught and well cared for,and were universal favorites wherever they went--the extreme side ofKitty being prone to over-tenderness; the extreme side of Rachel toover-brusqueness and almost fierceness.
Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine said very little about their affectionfor the children--very little either to the children themselves or to oneanother. They were reserved women and thought it undignified to speak oftheir feelings. Neither Rachel nor Kitty was at all proud of beingLovels of Avonsyde; but Miss Griselda thought her position above that ofa countess, and Miss Katharine supported her great honors with a meeklittle air of becoming pride. The old ladies' great object in life wasto find the missing heir, and Miss Griselda had even once picked upsufficient courage to go to America, accompanied by the family lawyerand his wife, in search of him; but though many little boys came toAvonsyde and many fathers and mothers sent in all kinds of extraordinaryclaims, the heir who could claim direct descent from Rupert Lovel, thestrong and sturdy boy who was to bring back a fresh epoch of health andlife and vigor to the old family tree, and not yet arrived.
Now, however, shortly after Rachel's twelfth birthday and in the middleof a glorious summer, little Philip Lovel was expected. His mother wasto bring him and he was to sleep in the tower room, which, as Kittysaid, was most exciting. Miss Griselda and Miss Katharine too wereexcited; and Miss Griselda said with an unusual burst of confidence toher younger sister:
"If the boy turns out to be a true descendant of Rupert's, and if he isblessed with good physical health, I shall feel a great load off mymind."
Miss Katharine smiled in reply.
"God grant the little boy may be the heir," she said; "but, Griselda, Idon't like the tone of the mother's letters."
