The Heart of Una Sackville
Page 4
CHAPTER FOUR.
_July 10th_.To-day I went a round of calls with mother, driving round the countryfor over twenty miles. It was rather dull in one way and interesting inanother, for I do like to see other people's drawing-rooms and how theyarrange the things. Some are all new and garish, and look as if theywere never used except for an hour or two in the evening, and some aregrand and stiff like a hotel, and others are all sweet and chintzy andhome-like, with lots of plants and a scent of _pot-pourri_ in chinavases. That's the sort of room I like. I mean to marry a man whobelongs to a very ancient family, so that I may have lots of beautifulold furniture.
Mother gave me histories of the various hostesses as we drove up to thehouses.
"A dreadfully trying woman, I do hope she is out." "Rather amusing. Ishould like you to see her." "A most hopeless person--absolutely noconversation. Now, darling, take a lesson from her and never, neverallow yourself to relapse into monosyllables. It is such a hopelessstruggle if all one's remarks are greeted with a `No' or a `Yes,' andwhen girls first come out they are very apt to fall into this habit.Make a rule that you will never reply to a question in less than fourwords, and it is wonderful what a help you will find it.
"Twist the ends of your veil, dear, they are sticking out... Oh dear,dear, she is at home! I do have such shocking bad fortune."
She trailed out of the carriage sighing so deeply that I was terrifiedlest the servant should hear. I shall never call on people unless Iwant to see them. It does seem such a farce to grumble because they areat home, and then to be sweet and pleasant when you meet.
Mrs Greaves was certainly very silent, but I liked her. She lookedworn and tired, but she had beautiful soft brown eyes which looked atyou and seemed to say a great deal more than her lips. Do you know thekind of feeling when you like people and know they like you in return?I was perfectly certain Mrs Greaves had taken a fancy to me before shesaid, "I should like to introduce my daughter to you," and sent amessage upstairs by the servant. I wondered what the girl would belike; a young edition of Mrs Greaves might be pretty, but there was anexpression on mother's face which made me uncertain. Then she came in,a pale badly dressed girl, with a sweet face and shy awkward manners.Her name was Rachel, and she took me to see the conservatory, and Iwondered what on earth we should find to say. Of course she asked firstof all--
"Are you fond of flowers?" and I remembered mother's rule and replied,"Yes, I love them." That was four words, but it didn't seem to take usmuch further somehow, so I made a terrific effort and added, "But Idon't know much about their names, do you?"
"Yes, I think I do. I feel as if it was a kind of courtesy we owe themfor giving us so much pleasure. We take it as a slight if our ownfriends mispronounce or misspell our own names, and surely flowersdeserve as much consideration from us," quoth she.
Goodness! how frightfully proper and correct. I felt so quelled thatthere was no more spirit left in me, and I followed her round listeningto her learned descriptions and saying, "How pretty!" "Oh, really!" inthe most feeble manner you can imagine.
All the while I was really looking at her more than the flowers, anddiscovering lots of things. Number one--sweet eyes just like hermother's; number two--sweet lips with tiny little white teeth like achild's; number three--a long white throat above that awful collar.Quotient--a girl who ought to be quite sweet, but who made herself afright. I wondered why! Did she think it wrong to look nice--but then,if she did, why did she love the flowers just for that very reason?Rachel Greaves! I thought the name sounded like her somehow--old-fashioned, and prim, and grey; but the next moment I felt ashamed, for,as if she guessed what I was thinking, she turned to me and saidsuddenly--
"Will you tell me your name? I ought to know it to add to mycollection, for you are like a flower yourself."
Wasn't it a pretty compliment? I blushed like anything, and said--
"It must be a wild one, I'm afraid. I look hot-housey this afternoon,for I'm dressed up to pay calls, but really I have just left school, andfeel as wild as I can be. You mustn't be shocked if you meet me in ashort frock some morning tearing about the fields."
She leant back against the stand, staring at me with such big eyes, andthen she said the very last thing in the world which I expected to hear.
"May I come with you? Will you let me come too some day?"
Come with me! Rachel Greaves, with her solemn face, and dragged-backhair, and her proper conversation. To tear about the fields! I nearlyhad a fit.
"I suppose you want to botanise?" I asked feebly, and she shook herhead and said--
"No; I want to talk to you--I want to do just what you do when you arealone."
"Scramble through the hedges, and jump the streams, and swing on thegates, and go bird's-nesting in the hedges?"
She gave a gulp of dismay, but stuck to her guns.
"Y-es! At least, I could try--you could teach me. I've learned such anumber of things in my life, but I don't know how to play. That part ofmy education has been neglected."
"Wherever did you go to school? What a dreadful place it must havebeen!"
"I never went to school; I had governesses at home, and I have nobrothers nor sisters; I am very much interested in girls of my own age,especially poor girls, and try to work among them, but I am not verysuccessful. They are afraid of me, and I can't enter into theiramusements; but if I could learn to romp and be lively, it might bedifferent."
It was such a funny thing to ask, and she looked so terribly in earnestover it, that I was simply obliged to laugh.
"Do you mean to say you want to learn to be lively, as a lesson--thatyou are taking it up like wood-carving or poker-work--for the sake ofyour class and your influence there?"
She blinked at me like an owl, and said--
"I think, so far as I can judge of my own motives, that that is atruthful statement of the case! I have often wished I knew someone likeyou--full of life and spirit; but there are not many girls in thisneighbourhood, and I met no one suitable until you came. It is a greatdeal to ask, but if you would spend a little time with me sometimes Ishould be infinitely grateful."
"Oh, don't be grateful, please, until you realise what you have toendure. Nothing worth having can be gained without suffering," I saidsolemnly. "I shall lead you a terrible dance, and you must promiseimplicit obedience. I'm a terrible bully when I get the chance."
I privately determined that I'd teach her other things besides play, andwe agreed to meet next morning at eleven o'clock to take our first walk.Mother was much amused when I told her of our conversation.
"You'll soon grow tired of her, darling; she is impossibly dull, but agood creature who can do you no harm. You can easily drop her if shebores you too much."
But I don't expect to be bored, I expect it will be very amusing.
_Next Day_.It was! She was there to meet me with a mushroom hat over her face,looking as solemn as ever, and never in all my life did I see a poorcreature work so hard at trying to enjoy herself. She runs like anelephant, and puffs like a grampus; says, "One, two, three," at the edgeof the streams, then gives a convulsive leap, and lands right in themiddle of the water. She was splashed from head to foot, and quite pinkin the cheeks imagining she was going to be drowned, and in the nexthedge her hat caught in a branch, and was literally torn from her head.Then we sat down to consider the situation, and to collect the fallenhairpins from the ground.
She has a great long rope of hair, and she twists and twists and twistsit together like a nurse wringing out a fomentation, so I politelyoffered to fasten it for her, and loosened it out and pulled it up overher forehead, and you wouldn't believe the difference it made. We foundsome wild strawberries, and ate them for lunch, and I wreathed theleaves round her head, and when her fingers were nicely stained with thejuice, and she looked thoroughly disreputable, I held out the litt
lelooking-glass on my chatelaine, and gave her a peep at herself, andsaid--
"That's the result of the first lesson! What do you think of the effecton your appearance?"
"I beg your pardon! I'm quite ashamed. What have I been doing?" shecried all in a breath, and up went both hands to drag her hair back, andtear out the leaves, but I caught them in time and held them down.
"Implicit obedience, remember! I like you better as you are. It's suchpretty hair that it's a sin to hide it away in that tight little knot.Why shouldn't you look nice if you can?"
That began it, and we had quite a solemn discussion, something likethis--
Rachel, solemnly: "It does not matter how we look, so long as ourcharacters are beautiful!"
Una: "Then why was everything on the earth made so beautiful if we werenot intended to be beautiful too? How would you like it if everythingwas just as useful, but looked ugly instead of pretty? When you havethe choice of being one or the other it's very ungrateful to abuse yourtalent!"
"Beauty a talent! I have always looked upon it as a snare! How many awoman's life has been spoiled by a lovely face!"
"That's the abuse of beauty, not the use!" I said, and felt quite proudof myself, for it sounded so grand. "Of course, if you were silly andconceited, it would spoil everything; but if you were nice, you wouldhave far more influence with people. I used to notice that with thepretty girls at school, and, of course, there's mother--everyone adoresher, and feels repaid for any amount of trouble if she will just smileand look pleased."
"Ah, your mother! But there are not many like her. You spoke of havinga choice, but in my own case, for instance, how could I--what could Ido?"
"You could look fifty thousand times nicer if you took the trouble. Ithought so the first time I saw you, and now I know it. Look in theglass again; would you know yourself for the same girl?"
She peered at herself, and gave a pleased little smirk just like a humanbeing.
"It's the enjoyment lesson, and the red cheeks--but oh, I couldn't--Ireally couldn't wear my hair like that! It looks so terribly as if I--I_wanted_ to look nice!"
"Well, so you do, don't you? I do, frightfully! I'd like to beperfectly lovely, and so charming that everyone adored me, and longed tobe with me."
"Ah, that's different," she said softly, and her eyes went shiny and shestared straight ahead at nothing, in the way people do who are thinkingnice thoughts of their own which they don't mean you to know. "To beloved is beautiful, but that is different from admiration. We lovepeople for their gifts of mind and heart, not for their appearance."She meandered on for quite a long time, but I really forget all shesaid, for I was getting tired of moralising, and wondering what excuse Icould make to leave her and fly off home across the fields. Thensuddenly came the sound of footsteps at the other side of the stile, andwho should come jumping over just before our very faces but Will Dudleyhimself on his way home to lunch. He stared for a moment, hardlyrecognising the two hat-less, dishevelled mortals squatted on the grass,and then came forward to shake hands. The funny thing was that he cameto me first, and said, "How do you do?" and then just shook hands withRachel without ever saying a word. She didn't say anything either, butI could see she was horribly embarrassed, thinking of her hair and thestrawberry leaves, and he looked at her and looked again as if he couldnot understand what had happened.
I thought it would be fun to tell him all about it when we reached thecross-roads, and Rachel left us alone. I was glad she was going anotherway, because it's rather a nuisance having a stranger with you when youwant to talk, and I knew Mr Dudley very well by this time. He would beso amused at the idea of the enjoyment lesson. I was looking forward toour talk; but oh, dear, what horrid shocks one does get sometimes! Ishall never, never forget my feelings when we got to the corner, and heheld out his hand to me--me--Una Sackville, and walked calmly off withRachel Greaves.
It was not as if he had been going in her direction; his way home waswith me, so why on earth should he choose to go off with her? Are theylovers, or friends, or what? Why did he take no notice of her at first,then suddenly become so anxious for her society? It's not that I care ascrap, but it seemed so rude! I've been as cross as two sticks all day.Nothing annoys me more than to be disappointed in my friends!
Eleven o'clock. I was comfortably settled in bed when I suddenlyremembered resolution number two. The real reason that I am annoyed isthat I am conceited enough to think I am nicer than Rachel, and to wantMr Dudley to think so too. How horrid it looks written down! Ibelieve it will do me heaps of good to have to look at plain truthsabout myself in staring black and white. Perhaps Lorna is right afterall, and I have a greed for admiration! I'll turn over a new leaf andbe humble from this day.