Six weeks seem a great deal longer to sixteen than to six-and-forty,and Gillian groaned and sighed to herself as she wrote her letters, andassured herself that so far from her having done enough in the way ofattention to the old soldier's family, she had simply done enough tomark her neglect and disdain.
'Grizzling' (to use an effective family phrase) under opposition is agrand magnifier; and it was not difficult to erect poor Captain Whiteinto a hero, his wife into a patient sufferer, and Alethea's kindnessto his daughter into a bosom friendship; while the aunts seemed to beabsurdly fastidious and prejudiced. 'I don't wonder at Aunt Ada,' shesaid to herself; 'I know she has always been kept under a glass case;but I thought better things of Aunt Jane. It is all because Kalliopegoes to St. Kenelm's, and won't be in the G.F.S.'
And all the time Gillian was perfectly unaware of her own familylikeness to Dolores. Other matters conduced to a certain spirit ofopposition to Aunt Jane. That the children should have to use the backinstead of the front stair when coming in with dusty or muddy shoes,and that their possessions should be confiscated for the rest of the daywhen left about in the sitting-rooms and hall, were contingencies shecould accept as natural, though they irritated her; but she agreed withValetta that it was hard to insist on half an hour's regular work atthe cushion, which was not a lesson, but play. She was angered whenAunt Jane put a stop to some sportive passes and chatter on the stairsbetween Valetta and Alice Mount, and still more so when her aunt tookaway Adam Bede from the former, as not desirable reading at eleven yearsold.
It was only the remembrance of her mother's positive orders thatwithheld Gillian from the declaration that mamma always let them readGeorge Eliot; and in a cooler moment of reflection she was glad shehad abstained, for she recollected that _always_ was limited to mamma'shaving read most of Romola aloud to her and Mysie, and to her having hadSilas Marner to read when she was unwell in lodgings, and there was ascarcity of books.
Such miffs about her little sister were in the natural order of things,and really it was the 'all pervadingness,' as she called it in her ownmind, of Aunt Jane that chiefly worried her, the way that the littlelady knew everything that was done, and everything that was touched inthe house; but as long as Valetta took refuge with herself, and grumbledto her, it was bearable.
It was different with Fergus. There had been offences certainly; AuntJane had routed him out of preparing his lessons in Mrs. Mount's room,where he diversified them with teaching the Sofy to beg, and inventingnew modes of tying down jam pots. Moreover, she had declared thatGillian's exemplary patience was wasted and harmful when she found thatthey had taken three-quarters of an hour over three tenses of a Greekverb, and that he said it worse on the seventh repetition than on thefirst. After an evening, when Gillian had gone to a musical party withAunt Ada, and Fergus did his lessons under Aunt Jane's superintendence,he utterly cast off his sister's aid. There was something in MissMohun's briskness that he found inspiring, and she put in apt words orillustrations, instead of only rousing herself from a book to listen,prompt, and sigh. He found that he did his tasks more thoroughly in halfthe time, and rose in his class; and busy as his aunt was, she made thetime not only for this, but for looking over with him those plates ofmechanics in the Encyclopaedia, which were a mere maze to Gillian, butof which she knew every detail, from ancient studies with her brotherMaurice. As Fergus wrote to his mother, 'Aunt Jane is the only woman whohas any natural _scence_.'
Gillian could not but see this as she prepared the letters for the post,and whatever the ambiguous word might be meant for, she had rather nothave seen it, for she really was ashamed of her secret annoyance atFergus's devotion to Aunt Jane, knowing how well it was that Stebbingshould have a rival in his affections. Yet she could not help beingprovoked when the boy followed his aunt to the doors of her cottageslike a little dog, and waited outside whenever she would let him, forthe sake of holding forth to her about something which wheels and plugsand screws were to do. Was it possible that Miss Mohun followed it all?His great desire was to go over the marble works, and she had promisedto take him when it could be done; but, unfortunately, his half-holidaywas on Saturday, when the workmen struck off early, and when also AuntJane always had the pupil-teachers for something between instruction andamusement.
Gillian felt lonely, for though she got on better with her younger thanher elder aunt, and had plenty of surface intercourse of a pleasant kindwith both, it was a very poor substitute for her mother, or her eldersisters, and Valetta was very far from being a Mysie.
The worst time was Sunday, when the children had deserted her for Mrs.Hablot, and Aunt Ada was always lying down in her own room to rest aftermorning service. She might have been at the Sunday-school, but shedid not love teaching, nor do it well, and she did not fancy the townchildren, or else there was something of opposition to Aunt Jane.
It was a beautiful afternoon, of the first Sunday in October, and shebetook herself to the garden with the 'Lyra Innocentium' in her hand,meaning to learn the poem for the day. She wandered up to the rail abovethe cliff, looking out to the sea. Here, beyond the belt of tamarisksand other hardy low-growing shrubs which gave a little protection fromthe winds, the wall dividing the garden of Beechcroft Cottage from thatof Cliff House became low, with only the iron-spiked railing on thetop, as perhaps there was a desire not to overload the cliff. The seawas of a lovely colour that day, soft blue, and with exquisite purpleshadows of clouds, with ripples of golden sparkles here and there nearthe sun, and Gillian stood leaning against the rail, gazing out on it,with a longing, yearning feeling towards the dear ones who had goneout upon it, when she became conscious that some one was in the othergarden, which she had hitherto thought quite deserted, and lookinground, she saw a figure in black near the rail. Their eyes met, and bothtogether exclaimed--
'Kalliope!'--'Miss Gillian! Oh, I beg your pardon!'
'How did you come here? I thought nobody did!'
'Mr. White's gardener lets us walk here. It is so nice and quiet. Alexishas taken the younger ones for a walk, but I was too much tired. But Iwill not disturb you--'
'Oh! don't go away. Nobody will disturb us, and I do so want to knowabout you all. I had no notion, nor mamma either, that you were livinghere, or--'
'Or of my dear father's death!' said Kalliope, as Gillian stopped short,confused. 'I did write to Miss Merrifield, but the letter was returned.'
'But where did you write?'
'To Swanage, where she had written to me last.'
'Oh! we were only there for six weeks, while we were looking for houses;I suppose it was just as the Wardours were gone to Natal too?'
'Yes, we knew they were out of reach.'
'But do tell me about it, if you do not mind. My father will want tohear.'
Kalliope told all in a calm, matter-of-fact way, but with a strain ofdeep suppressed feeling. She was about twenty-three, a girl with a fineoutline of features, beautiful dark eyes, and a clear brown skin, whowould have been very handsome if she had looked better fed and lesshardworked. Her Sunday dress showed wear and adaptation, but she wasaltogether ladylike, and even the fringe that had startled Aunt Ada onlyconsisted of little wavy curls on the temples, increasing her classicallook.
'It was fever--at Leeds. My father was just going into a situation inthe police that we had been waiting for ever so long, and there weregood schools, and Richard had got into a lawyer's office, when therebegan a terrible fever in our street--the drains were to blame, theysaid--and every one of us had it, except mother and Richard, who did notsleep at home. We lost poor little Mary first, and then papa seemed tobe getting better; but he was anxious about expense, and there was nopersuading him to take nourishment enough. I do believe it was that. Andhe had a relapse--and--'
'Oh, poor Kalliope! And we never heard of it!'
'I did feel broken down when the letter to Miss Merrifield came back,'said Kalliope. 'But my father had made me write to Mr. James White--notthat we had any idea that he had grown so rich. He and m
y father werefirst cousins, sons of two brothers who were builders; but there wassome dispute, and it ended by my father going away and enlisting. Therewas nobody nearer to him, and he never heard any more of his home; butwhen he was so ill, he thought he would like to be reconciled to "Jem,"as he said, so he made me write from his dictation. Such a beautifulletter it was, and he added a line at the end himself. Then at last,when it was almost too late, Mr. White answered. I believe it was a merechance--or rather Providence--that he ever knew it was meant for him,but there were kind words enough to cheer up my father at the last. Ibelieve then the clergyman wrote to him.'
'Did not he come near you?'
'No, I have never seen him; but there was a correspondence between himand Mr. Moore, the clergyman, and Richard, and he said he was willingto put us in the way of working for ourselves, if--if--we were not tooproud.'
'Then he did it in an unkind way,' said Gillian.
'I try to think he did not mean to be otherwise than good to us. I toldMr. Moore that I was not fit to be a governess, and I did not think theycould get on without me at home, but that I could draw better than Iwould do anything else, and perhaps I might get Christmas cards to do,or something like that. Mr. Moore sent a card or two of my designing,and then Mr. White said he could find work for me in the mosaicdepartment here; and something for my brothers, if we did not giveourselves airs. So we came.'
'Not Richard?' said Gillian, who remembered dimly that Richard had notbeen held in great esteem by her own brothers.
'No; Richard is in a good situation, so it was settled that he shouldstay on there.'
'And you--'
'I am in the mosaic department. Oh, Miss Gillian, I am so grateful toMiss Merrifield. Don't you remember her looking at my little attempts,and persuading Lady Merrifield to get mother to let me go to the Schoolof Art? I began only as the girls do who are mere hands, and now I haveto prepare all the designs for them, and have a nice little office of myown for it. Sometimes I get one of my own designs taken, and then I ampaid extra.'
'Then do you maintain them all?'
'Oh no; we have lodgers, the organist and his wife,' said Kalliope,laughing, 'and Alexis is in the telegraph office, at the works; besides,it turned out that this house and two more belong to us, and we do verywell when the tenants pay their rents.'
'But Maura is not the youngest of you,' said Gillian, who was ratherhazy about the family.
'No, there are the two little boys. We let them go to the NationalSchool for the present. It is a great trial to my poor mother, but theydo learn well there, and we may be able to do something better for themby the time they are old enough for further education.'
Just then the sound of a bell coming up from the town below wasa warning to both that the conversation must be broken off. A fewwords--'I am so glad to have seen you,' and 'It has been such apleasure'--passed, and then each hastened down her separate garden path.
'Must I tell of this meeting?' Gillian asked herself. 'I shall write itall to mamma and Alethea, of course. How delightful that those lessonsthat Kalliope had have come to be of so much use! How pleased Aletheawill be! Poor dear thing! How much she has gone through! But can therebe any need to tell the aunts? Would it not just make Aunt Ada nervousabout any one looking through her sweet and lovely wall? And as to AuntJane, I really don't see that I am bound to gratify her passion forknowing everything. I am not accountable to her, but to my own mother.My people know all about Kalliope, and she is prejudiced. Why should Ibe unkind and neglectful of an old fellow-soldier's family, because shecannot or will not understand what they really are? It would not bethe slightest use to tell her the real story. Mrs. White is fat, andKalliope has a fringe, goes to St. Kenelm's, and won't be in the G.F.S.,and that's enough to make her say she does not believe a word of it, orelse to make it a fresh ground for poking and prying, in the way thatdrives one distracted! It really is quite a satis-faction to havesomething that she can't find out, and it is not underhand while I writeevery word of it to mamma.'
So Gillian made her conscience easy, and she did write a long and fullaccount of the Whites and their troubles, and of her conversation withKalliope.
In the course of that week Fergus had a holiday, asked for by somegood-natured visitor of Mrs. Edgar's. He rushed home on the previousday with the news, to claim Aunt Jane's promise; and she undertook soto arrange matters as to be ready to go with him to the marble works atthree o'clock. Valetta could not go, as she had her music lesson at thattime, and she did not regret it, for she had an idea that blasting withpowder or dynamite was always going on there. Gillian was not quitehappy about the dynamite, but she did not like to forego the chance ofseeing what the work of Kalliope and Alexis really was, so she expressedher willingness to join the party, and in the meantime did her best toprevent Aunt Ada from being driven distracted by Fergus's impatience,which began at half-past two.
Miss Mohun had darted out as soon as dinner was over, and he was quitecertain some horrible cad would detain her till four o'clock, and thengoing would be of no use. Nevertheless he was miserable till Gillian hadput on her hat, and then she could do nothing that would content him andkeep him out of Aunt Ada's way, but walk him up and down in the littlefront court with the copper beeches, while she thought they must presentto the neighbours a lively tableau of a couple of leopards in a cage.
However, precisely as the clock struck three, Aunt Jane walked up tothe iron gate. She had secured an order from Mr. Stebbing, the managingpartner, without which they would not have penetrated beyond the gatewhere 'No admittance except on business' was painted.
Mr. Stebbing himself, a man with what Valetta was wont to call a grislybeard, met them a little within the gate, and did the honours of theplace with great politeness. He answered all the boy's questions, andseemed much pleased with his intelligence and interest, letting him seewhat he wished, and even having the machinery slacked to enable himto perceive how it acted, and most delightful of all, in the eyes ofFergus, letting him behold some dynamite, and explaining its downwardexplosion. He evidently had a great respect for Miss Mohun, because sheentered into it all, put pertinent questions, and helped her nephew ifhe did not understand.
It was all dull work to Gillian, all that blasting and hewing andpolishing, which made the place as busy as a hive. She only wished shecould have seen the cove as once it was, with the weather-beaten rocksdescending to the sea, overhung with wild thrift and bramble, and withthe shore, the peaceful haunts of the white sea-birds; whereas now thefresh-cut rock looked red and wounded, and all below was full of uglyslated or iron-roofed sheds, rough workmen, and gratings and screechesof machinery.
It was the Whites whom she wanted to see, and she never came upon thebrother at all, nor on the sister, till Mr. Stebbing, perhaps observingher listless looks, said that they were coming to what would be moreinteresting to Miss Merrifield, and took them into the workrooms, wherea number of young women were busy over the very beautiful work bywhich flowers and other devices were represented by inlaying differentcoloured marbles and semi-precious stones in black and white, so as tomake tables, slabs, and letter-weights, and brooches for those who couldnot aspire to the most splendid and costly productions.
Miss Mohun shook hands with 'the young ladies' within the magic circleof the G.F.S., and showed herself on friendly terms of interest withall. From a little inner office Miss White was summoned, came out, andmet an eager greeting from Gillian, but blushed a little, and perhapshad rather not have had her unusual Christian name proclaimed by theexplanation--
'This is Kalliope White, Aunt Jane.'
Miss Mohun shook hands with her, and said her niece had been muchpleased at the meeting, and her sister would be glad to hear of her,explaining to Mr. Stebbing that Captain White had been abrother-officer of Sir Jasper Merrifield.
Kalliope had a very prettily-shaped head, with short hair in littlecurls and rings all over it. Her whole manner was very quiet andunassuming, as she explained and showed whatever Mr. Stebbing
wished.It was her business to make the working drawings for the others, andto select the stones used, and there could be no doubt that she was acapable and valuable worker.
Gillian asked her to show something designed by herself, and sheproduced an exquisite table-weight, bearing a spray of sweet peas.Gillian longed to secure it for her mother, but it was very expensive,owing to the uncommon stones used in giving the tints, and Mr. Stebbingevidently did not regard it with so much favour as the jessamines andsnowdrops, which, being of commoner marbles, could be sold at a ratefitter for the popular purse. Several beautiful drawings in her officehad been laid aside as impracticable, 'unless we had a carte blanchewedding order,' he said, with what Gillian thought a sneer.
She would gladly have lingered longer, but this was a very dull roomin Fergus's estimation, and perhaps Aunt Jane did not desire a longcontinuance of the conversation under Mr. Stebbing's eyes, so Gillianfound herself hurried on.
Mr. Stebbing begged Miss Mohun to come in to his wife, who would havetea ready, and this could not be avoided without manifest incivility.Fergus hoped to have been introduced to the haunts of his hero, butMaster George was gone off in attendance on his brother, who wasfishing, and there was nothing to relieve the polite circle of thedrawing-room--a place most aesthetically correct, from cornice tothe little rugs on the slippery floor. The little teacups and thelow Turkish table were a perfect study to those who did not--likeFergus--think more of the dainty doll's muffins on the stand, or thelong-backed Dachshund who looked for them beseechingly.
Mrs. Stebbing was quite in accordance with the rest, with a little rowof curls over her forehead, a terra-cotta dress, and a chain of watchcocks, altogether rather youthful for the mother of a grown-up son,engaged in his father's business.
She was extremely civil and polite, and everything went well except fora certain stiffness. By and by the subject of the Whites came up, andMr. Stebbing observed that Miss Merrifield seemed to know Miss White.
'Oh yes,' said Gillian eagerly; 'her father was in my father's regiment,the Royal Wardours.'
'A non-commissioned officer, I suppose,' said Mrs. Stebbing.
'Not for a good many years,' said Gillian. 'He was lieutenant for sixyears, and retired with the rank of captain.'
'I know they said he was a captain,' said Mrs. Stebbing; 'but it is veryeasy to be called so.'
'Captain White was a real one,' said Gillian, with a tone of offence.'Every one in the Royal Wardours thought very highly of him.'
'I am sure no one would have supposed it from his family,' said Mrs.Stebbing. 'You are aware, Miss Mohun, that it was under disgracefulcircumstances that he ran away and enlisted.'
'Many a youth who gets into a scrape becomes an excellent soldier, evenan officer,' said Miss Mohun.
'Exactly so,' said Mr. Stebbing. 'Those high-spirited lads are thebetter for discipline, and often turn out well under it. But theirpromotion is an awkward thing for their families, who have not beeneducated up to the mark.'
'It is an anomalous position, and I have a great pity for them,' saidMiss Mohun. 'Miss White must be a very clever girl.'
'Talented, yes,' said Mr. Stebbing. 'She is useful in her department.
'That may be,' said Mrs. Stebbing; 'but it won't do to encourage her.She is an artful, designing girl, I know very well--'
'Do you know anything against her?' asked Miss Mohun, looking volumes ofrepression at Gillian, whose brown eyes showed symptoms of glaring likea cat's, under her hat.
'I do not speak without warrant, Miss Mohun. She is one of those demure,proper-behaved sort that are really the worst flirts of all, if you'llexcuse me.'
Most thankful was Miss Mohun that the door opened at that moment toadmit some more visitors, for she saw that Gillian might at any momentexplode.
'Aunt Jane,' she exclaimed, as soon as they had accomplished theirdeparture, 'you don't believe it?'
'I do not think Miss White looks like it,' said Miss Mohun. 'She seemeda quiet, simple girl.'
'And you don't believe all that about poor Captain White?'
'Not the more for Mrs. Stebbing's saying so.'
'But you will find out and refute her. There must be people who know.'
'My dear, you had better not try to rake up such things. You know thatthe man bore an excellent character for many years in the army, and youhad better be satisfied with that,' said Miss Jane for once in her life,as if to provoke Gillian, not on the side of curiosity.
'Then you do believe it!' went on Gillian, feeling much injured for herhero's sake, and wearing what looked like a pertinacious pout.
'Truth compels me to say, Gillian, that the sons of men, even in asmall way of business, are not apt to run away and enlist without somereason.'
'And I am quite sure it was all that horrid old White's fault.'
'You had better content yourself with that belief.'
Gillian felt greatly affronted, but Fergus, who thought all this verytiresome, broke in, after a third attempt--
'Aunt Jane, if the pulley of that crane--'
And all the way home they discussed machinery, and Gillian's heartswelled.
'I am afraid Gillian was greatly displeased with me,' said Miss Mohunthat evening, talking it over with her sister. 'But her captain mighthave a fall if she went poking into all the gossip of the place abouthim.'
'Most likely whatever he did would be greatly exaggerated,' saidAdeline.
'No doubt of it! Besides, those young men who are meant by nature forheroes are apt to show some Beserkerwuth in their youth, like Herewardle Wake.'
'But what did you think of the girl?'
'I liked her looks very much. I have seen her singing in the chorusesat the choral society concert, and thought how nice her manner was. Shedoes justice to her classical extraction, and is modest and ladylikebesides. Mrs. Stebbing is spiteful! I wonder whether it is jealousy.She calls her artful and designing, which sounds to me very much as ifMaster Frank might admire the damsel. I have a great mind to have thetwo girls to tea, and see what they are made of.'
'We had much better wait till we hear from Lily. We cannot in the leasttell whether she would wish the acquaintance to be kept up. And ifthere is anything going on with young Stebbing, nothing could be moreunadvisable than for Gillian to be mixed up in any nonsense of thatsort.'
CHAPTER VI. -- SINGLE MISFORTUNES NEVER COME ALONE
Beechcroft at Rockstone Page 5
