The Girls of St. Cyprian's: A Tale of School Life

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER XI

  The Towers

  Mildred meantime was speeding northward, and once the wrench of partingfrom home was over, she could not be altogether unattracted by thenovelty of the change in store for her, and the prospect of seeing freshplaces and faces. The dingy bricks and mortar of the town had givenplace to green fields, woods, and streams, and these in their turnyielded to bare moorland slopes, with stone walls instead of hedges,till presently in the distance she could catch her first glimpse of thehills, their grey peaks outlined against a pale-blue sky. The train ranon for fully an hour more, between craggy heights and thickly-woodedglens, the scenery growing in beauty with every mile, till at length theengine plunged with a whistle into a long tunnel, and finally emerged atthe little station of Whiterigg.

  "Here you are, Miss!" cried the guard, flinging open the carriage door,and helping her out in a hurry. "Your luggage is at the end of theplatform. We're a bit late to-day. Right away!"

  And waving his flag, he jumped into his van as it passed him, leavingMildred standing with her violin case in one hand and a bag in theother, almost bewildered at this sudden termination of her journey. Asthe retreating train rumbled away in the distance she heard the hoot ofa motor-horn, and a car came rapidly along the road and drew up at thegate below. A tall, handsome man jumped out, and ran up the stationsteps on to the platform.

  "Why, here you are at last!" he cried, shaking hands heartily withMildred. "I'm glad you've found your way here safely. Is that yourluggage? We're sending a cart for it. These light things can go in withus."

  Mildred followed her new uncle shyly. His face was pleasant, and hismanner was kind as he helped her into the car. To her great relief,after his first greeting was over, he did not trouble her with muchconversation, but left her to enjoy the scenery. The road wound up anddown in a gorge between two ranges of hills, sometimes passing throughwoods, and sometimes crossing a noisy stream, overshadowed by bramblesand hazel bushes.

  "That's Helvellyn!" said Sir Darcy, pointing to a tall peak so far offthat it was difficult to distinguish it from the cloud banks in the sky."It's not often we can see it from here, there's generally a mistrolling over; but when we do, it foretells fine weather. That streammarks the boundary of the property. As soon as we enter the wood weshall be out of Whiterigg and in Castleford, and in a few minutes you'llget your first peep of the lake."

  They had at last reached the end of the valley, and, rounding the spurof the hill, went through a thick pine wood, where the tall red stems ofthe trees stood upright as the masts of a ship. Then, climbing a shortincline, they came into an open road above, from which there suddenlyburst upon Mildred's eyes such a view as she had never hitherto evenimagined. Below her lay the lake, an outstretched shining mass ofshimmering brightness in the afternoon light, enfolded by wooded slopeslike a jewel in a setting. Here and there a rocky promontory, juttingout into the water, broke the line with its dark reflections, while atthe farther end rose a precipice of wild splintered crags, leading up tothe tall rigs and fells beyond.

  Nestled in a hollow, where it could receive some shelter from the woodsand yet command a full view of the water, rose the ivy-covered turretsof a fine old house, the many windows of which were flashing back thelight from the lake. Surrounded by beautiful gardens and pleasuregrounds, it was indeed a stately home, man's best handiwork set amongstNature's grandest surroundings, and it was with a thrill of perhapspardonable pride in his voice that Sir Darcy turned to Mildred and said:"That is The Towers."

  The great wrought-iron gates were open, and they entered the park, wherea herd of deer and some Highland cattle, which were grazing under thetrees, ran off in a mad stampede at their approach. Through a longavenue of beeches and under a carved stone gateway they passed, theninto a paved courtyard, and drew up at last before the broad steps ofthe front entrance.

  MILDRED IS MET BY HER UNCLE, SIR DARCY LORRAINE, AT THESTATION]

  Sir Darcy took Mildred into the hall, the panelled walls of which werehung with stags' heads, antlers, armour and weapons, well in keepingwith the carved oak of the antique furniture. A splendid white deerhoundsprang forward, barking a tempestuous greeting to its master. The soundseemed to announce their arrival, for from a room beyond a tall,graceful lady came hastily, followed by a girl who might perhaps be sixmonths younger than Mildred herself--a very pretty girl, whose slenderfigure, fair face, and long flaxen hair made a charming picture againstthe background of old oak.

  Lady Lorraine welcomed her niece kindly, and was so gentle andencouraging that Mildred's shyness began slightly to thaw. Violet alsomade smiling overtures of friendship.

  "We hear you are very musical, my dear," said Lady Lorraine. "I'm afraidViolet cares nothing about it, though she practises every day. Perhapsyou will be able to spur her on a little."

  "I'd never open the piano if I weren't obliged," declared Violet. "Ihate lessons of any sort, so it's no use pretending I like them. WhenI'm grown up, I'm just going to hunt and play tennis. They're the onlythings worth bothering about."

  "She's a true Lorraine!" laughed Sir Darcy, patting his daughter on theshoulder. "We all like outdoor sports better than books. We shall haveto see how Mildred takes to the saddle. A good gallop across countrywould soon bring the roses into her cheeks. Can you ride, Mildred? Well,well, we'll soon teach you. Never too late to learn, is it?--though theyounger you begin, the firmer your seat. Violet could manage her littleShetland by the time she was five."

  "Mildred must get accustomed to country life by degrees," said her aunt."We will not frighten her with too many things just at first."

  When Sir Darcy and Lady Lorraine discussed their niece afterwards, theyboth decided that she had made a favourable impression upon them.

  "A pretty, lady-like girl, though painfully shy," was her uncle'sverdict. "I'm much relieved to notice that she has such nice manners. Iwas afraid we might find her lacking in many ways. I see a strong lookof the Lorraines in her face, and no doubt, now she is separated fromher other relations, she'll soon get used to us, and in time will forgeteven to think about her early surroundings, and will not wish toremember that she has ever known anything different from The Towers. Iam glad we sent for her. It was certainly rather a venture, but I thinkthe experiment seems likely to prove a success."

  The wheels of life, well oiled by a handsome income, ran very smoothlyat The Towers. Sir Darcy Lorraine was a fine specimen of an Englishcountry gentleman--a splendid shot, a hard rider, interested in theimprovement of his estates, and to a certain degree in the welfare ofhis tenants. He entertained well, subscribed liberally to localcharities, supported the Church, and, as a magistrate and guardian ofthe poor, took what part he could in the affairs of the district withoutallowing the ensuing duties to monopolize too much of his time. Neitherpublic school nor college had been able to endow him with any love forlearning.

  "My fly-book and my cheque-book are all the literature I want," he oftendeclared; and though he occasionally sat in his well-furnished library,he rarely, if ever, took down the handsomely bound volumes from theirshelves. With other ways of life than his own he had scant sympathy,regarding the arts and sciences as harmless diversions for amateurs whomight like them, and a means of livelihood for those who were obliged totake up professions to earn their bread. A good landlord and a kindmaster, he liked to have everybody bright and cheerful around him, butdid not care to be distressed by social problems or tales of outsidemisery. Always in easy circumstances himself, and never havingexperienced any reverses, he had a vague idea that misfortunes weremostly caused by people's own fault, and that lack of success was due tolack of merit.

  Lady Lorraine had been a society beauty in her girlhood, and stillretained enough of her former good looks to attract a considerableamount of attention at hunt balls and garden fetes. In her way shereally worked quite hard at local duties, being always ready to openbazaars, attend flower-shows, distribute prizes, and organize charitydances. She was mildly interested in the village scho
ol, where thelittle boys all respectfully touched their forelocks, and the littlegirls dropped bob-curtsies whenever she looked at them. She occasionallyvisited at some of the cleanest cottages, and could never resist puttingher hand in her pocket; though the Vicar, who did not approve ofindiscriminate charity, complained that she pauperized those of hisparishioners who knew how to whine, while the deserving went unhelped.

  Both Sir Darcy and Lady Lorraine idolized their only child. To dressViolet prettily, to take her to garden parties and flower-shows, to seeher admired, and finally to bring her out successfully into society,was her mother's chief ambition; and her father, though he would havepreferred a boy who could inherit his title, gloried in his littledaughter's fearless riding and her achievements in the hunting field.

  To Mildred the beauty and novelty of her surroundings at The Towers werea source of great pleasure. As the weeks went on, and her first shynessand homesickness wore away, she began thoroughly to enjoy herself. Themotoring, the riding, the many tennis parties and other festivities madean ideal holiday time, and everything seemed new and entertaining. Shehad soon formed a friendship with the Somervilles at the Vicarage, anamusing family, consisting of three sons and a girl of her own age.Rhoda was pleasant and companionable; and with Rodney, the second boy,Mildred found a strong bond of sympathy, for he was to go to Kirkton inthe autumn to study engineering at a large motor works, and was glad tohear all that she could tell him about the city.

  Though Mildred thoroughly appreciated the advantages of her new life atThe Towers, she nevertheless missed the Grahams continually. Generous asthe Lorraines were to her in many respects, their conduct was sometimeslacking in thoughtfulness. They were people who could only be kind intheir own way. They considered they had done her an immense service bytaking her away from Kirkton, and they would refer to her pastsurroundings with a contempt which she found it very difficult to bear.Her cousin treated her with a kindly patronage. Violet was glad to haveMildred as a companion, but made her quite understand that she was tooccupy a second place. Mildred, accustomed to the "give and take" of abig school, found this attitude decidedly trying, and often longed forthe congenial society of Kitty Fletcher, Bess Harrison, Maudie Stearne,or other St. Cyprian's chums, whose friendships were conducted on termsof strictest equality.

  In the midst of all the pleasant arrangements at The Towers Mildredfound it very difficult to get in even the hour's daily work at theviolin which she had faithfully promised Professor Hoffmann not toneglect. Practising by herself seemed so different from learning fromher enthusiastic teacher. Away from his watchful eye, she felt as if allkinds of faults were creeping into her playing, and she had notsufficient courage to wrestle with hard passages when she knew there wasno one to appreciate her exertions. She set herself with grimdetermination to master certain new studies; but it was only by constanteffort, and the remembrance of what the Professor would expect from her,that she could keep up to anything like the mark of his high standard.

  Towards the end of August Miss Ward, Violet's governess, returned fromher holidays. She was a pleasant, amiable lady, not clever, but with ageneral smattering of a good many subjects. She was much appreciated byLady Lorraine, as she did not attempt to work Violet too hard, and wasextremely useful at arranging flowers, writing letters and addressinginvitations, and keeping the accounts of local charities. As Miss Wardwas considered to be musical, Violet one day asked Mildred to bring herviolin into the schoolroom.

  "Is this your fiddle?" said Miss Ward, catching it up. "It looks rathera nice one. Give me the bow and let me try it."

  To hear her beautiful and priceless Stradivarius called a "fiddle" was ashock to Mildred's ears, but it was nothing to the sounds which followedwhen the governess began to play. Such scraping and rasping notes it hadnever before been her misfortune to hear, even from the very worst ofHerr Hoffmann's pupils, and she could not have believed that her dearviolin could give vent to those harsh and discordant tones. It wasplaying that would have caused the Professor to tear his hair;everything about it was wrong, from the bowing to the way the instrumentwas held. The Stradivarius seemed to be shrieking in an agonized protestat the indignity of its treatment, and so painful was the effect onMildred's sensitive nerves that it was all she could do to sit stillwith a semblance of politeness.

  "Really quite a nice one! Where did you get it?" asked Miss Ward, havingcomplacently arrived at the end of her piece, and handing back theviolin to its outraged owner.

  Mildred took her treasure somewhat as a mother rescues her crying childfrom strangers, feeling as if she owed it an apology for havingentrusted it to such a 'prentice hand.

  "It was my father's," she answered quietly. "It's a genuineStradivarius, and I value it very much. I wouldn't part with it foranything else in the world."

  "Can you remember a tune?" asked Miss Ward, to whom the magic name ofStradivarius appeared to imply very little. "I should like to hear howyou can play."

  "Yes, do, Mildred!" added Violet. "I've only heard sounds from yourbedroom before breakfast, when I was much too sleepy to listen to them."

  Mildred paused a moment. She longed to plunge into the "Fruehlingslied",but knew it was impossible to do it justice when the orchestra waslacking, so she began instead the Polonaise which she had given as anencore at the Students' Concert. Violet listened in amazement to thetrue, clear notes. She had never before heard such playing, and thoughshe was quite unmusical, she fully recognized the difference between agood performance and a bad one.

  "You did score a triumph over Miss Ward!" she remarked to Mildredafterwards, when the two girls were alone. "I dared not laugh, but itwas too funny to watch her face while you were fiddling. You took allthe spirit out of her. She had been anxious to teach me her scraping,squeaking instrument, but I declined with thanks. I can't bear the soundof it. Gelert always howls dreadfully the moment she begins, and I feelas if I want to howl too! I'm made to strum on the piano for an hourevery day, but I hate it. It's all nonsense! What's the use of learninga thing you don't care about? The only music I really like to hear is aview halloo or a good tally-ho!"

  As the summer went on, Mildred thought the scenery at Castleford seemedto grow more and more beautiful. The ripened corn gave a golden touch tothe fields, the moorlands were ablaze with purple heather, and on thehillside slopes the bracken was beginning to turn to gorgeous shades ofochre and sienna brown. She and Violet took many walks with Sir Darcyround the estate, and she was beginning now to know the neighbourhoodquite well. One day Sir Darcy, who was busy talking with a keeper, leftthe two girls to rest on a stone at the head of the precipice whichbounded the lake.

  "How lovely it looks!" said Mildred. "I think it is the most exquisiteview I've ever seen in my life."

  Violet gazed thoughtfully at the purple-grey lake lying below them, theencircling woods in all the glory of their summer green seeming richerin contrast with the peaks of the craggy hills behind. By the water'sedge stretched lush meadows, the village and the church could be seen inthe blue distance, and close at hand rose the turrets and chimneys ofThe Towers. Violet did not very often think about such things, but justthen a verse came into her head which she had sung in the psalms atchurch the Sunday before, and which had caught her attention at thetime--

  "The lot is fallen unto me in a fair ground: yea, I have a goodly heritage."

  "Yes," she replied with a long breath; "it's the dearest place on earthto me. There's no other like it anywhere. And it's our own, as far asyou can see it--that's the best of it! The Lorraines have held it eversince the Conquest. It's Father's, and some day I suppose it will cometo me. I can't take the title, but luckily the land is not entailed now.It's grand to think of possessing all this. Mildred, you shall livehere with me as long as you like. I want you to enjoy it too. I'm mostdreadfully sorry for you. It's hard luck to have absolutely nothing ofyour own."

  Mildred looked down where her cousin's beautiful inheritance laystretched before her. Her heart was too full to answer. P
erhaps for amoment a shade of envy crossed her mind. It was indeed a fortunate lotto be heiress to such broad acres and so old a name. Some of the bestthings that life could offer had fallen to Violet's share. And what hadshe herself? An old violin, and the skill to play it--that was all! Apossession utterly valueless in Violet's eyes, yet in those of Dr. andMrs. Graham and the Professor a rare and special talent such as Godgives to but very few in this world--a talent to be taken humbly, andrejoiced in, and treasured zealously, and cultivated carefully, andwhich might bring more joy and beauty into the lives of others than eventhese glorious woods and waters; for music can lift the soul to the verysummit of earthly ecstasy, and in some of its divinest strains we canalmost catch an echo of the chorus of the "choir invisible" above. Shecould not explain--it was quite impossible to put into words what sheonly felt deep down in her heart; but as she quietly thanked Violet forher offer, it seemed to her that, in spite of her lack of lands, she wasnot quite portionless. God's gifts to His children were not all alike.To one the estates handed down by a long line of ancestors from thepast; to another the genius that has the power to create for itself.Which was the nobler bequest she could not tell, but she knew that afterall she, too, had an inheritance.