Mollie's Prince: A Novel

by Rosa Nouchette Carey

  CHAPTER XIV.

  THURSDAYS AT THE PORCH HOUSE.

  "And touch'd by her fair tendance, gladlier grew."

  MILTON.

  When Waveney crossed the hall after posting her letter, thedressing-bell rang, and Mitchell, who encountered her on the stairs,informed her with quiet civility that both her mistresses were in thelibrary, and had desired that she would join them as soon as she wasready.

  It did not take many minutes for Waveney to brush out her curly hair andput on her white dress. It was almost severe in its simplicity andabsence of trimming, but in hers and Mollie's eyes it was a garment fitfor a princess; and when Waveney had pinched up the lace ruffles, andput in the little pearl brooch--which had belonged to her mother--shewas innocently pleased with her appearance.

  She had rather a shock when she entered the library. Doreen was notthere, but Althea was sitting with her back to the light, with a greenshade over her eyes. The pale tints of her gown--Waveney discovered shealways wore soft, neutral tints--the pallor of her long, thin face, andthe disguising shade, gave her a strangely pathetic look.

  She held out her hand with a faint smile.

  "I am so sorry, my dear, that this should have happened, and on yourfirst day, too! It is the worst attack I have had for months, and noremedies seemed to have any effect. But the pain has gone now, andto-morrow I shall be myself again."

  "Oh, I am so glad of that!"

  "I am glad of it, too," returned Althea; "for I would not willinglymiss one of our Thursday evenings. You will be surprised to hear that wehave begun a course of Shakespeare readings. Some of the girls are sointelligent, and read so well! Our old friend, Mr. Chaytor, helps us. Heis a barrister, but a very poor one, I am sorry to say; but he iswonderfully clever. He used to read to the girls. Then he got up anelocution class; and now he has started these Shakespeare readings, andthe girls do so enjoy them!"

  "It sounds very nice."

  "I think you will say so. We have had _Tempest_ and _Twelfth Night_, andto-morrow it is to be _As You Like It_. Mr. Chaytor is to be Touchstoneand the melancholy Jacques. Rather contrasts, are they not?"

  At this moment Doreen re-entered. She looked pleased as she noticed theanimation in her sister's voice, and as the gong sounded, she said,--

  "You will like Miss Ward to come and talk after dinner, Althea, while Iwrite those letters." And Althea smiled and nodded.

  "She looks very ill," Waveney said, in a low voice, as they walked downthe corridor.

  "Oh, yes," returned Miss Harford, "she always looks bad after one ofthese attacks; it is the pain, you see--my sister does not bear painwell; it wears her out."

  Waveney felt relieved when dinner was over. Doreen was very kind andpleasant, but she was not a great talker, and hardly knew how tointerest her young companion. "Girls were more in Althea's line," shesaid to herself, "Althea had such marvellous sympathy and understoodthem so thoroughly. She herself got on better with older women;" andonce or twice she smiled in an amused way when she lifted her eyes fromher plate and saw the little figure in white opposite her. "She remindedme of one of Moritz's pictures," she said, afterwards to Althea."Whichever could it be? I have been puzzling myself all dinner-time. Thewhite frock makes her look more like a child than ever; her eyes arelovely, but she is not pretty."

  "Not exactly; but I like her face. I expect you mean that picture ofUndine. Yes, she is wonderfully like it, only this Undine has her soul.By the bye, we have not seen Moritz for an age. I shall write toGwendoline and tell her that her boy is up to mischief."

  When Waveney returned to the library she found that one or two shadedlamps had been lighted, but that Althea was still seated in the darkestcorner of the room.

  She bade Waveney draw up a chair beside her. "My head is too confused tolisten to reading," she observed; "so you shall just talk and amuse me.Tell me anything about yourself, or Mollie, or your brother; everythinghuman interests me, and nothing in the world pleases me better than tolisten to the story of other people's lives."

  Waveney laughed; but she was a little embarrassed, too. "Shall I tellyou about my dear old men at the Hospital?" she said, rather nervously;and Althea concealed her disappointment, and said, "Yes, certainly; tellme anything you like."

  And so Waveney began; and as usual her narrative was very picturesqueand graphic. But lo and behold! before many minutes were over she hadcrossed the green sward, and the lime avenue, and was standing in fancybefore a certain high, narrow house, with vine-draped balcony, and anold courtyard; and as she talked her eyes were shining with eagerness.And now the beloved names were on her lips--father and Mollie and Noel.Althea almost held her breath as she listened. "Oh, we were so happy!"exclaimed the girl. "I think no one could have been happier--we werenever dull, not even when Noel was at school and father away; but, ofcourse, we liked the evenings best!"

  "Oh, yes, of course," echoed Althea, softly.

  "I think the winter evenings were best," returned Waveney, reflectively,"because we could make up such a lovely fire. Father was often cold andtired, but he always smiled when he saw our fire, and sometimes we wouldroast chestnuts--that was Noel's treat--and tell stories, and sing.Father has such a beautiful voice, and so has Mollie, and when they singin church, people look round and wonder who they are."

  "Your brother is happy at school, then?"

  "Happy! I should think so! He is so clever--even his masters say so; andthen, he never shirks his work like other boys. Oh, do you know, MissHarford, he has set his heart on getting a scholarship; he is workingfor his examination now. If he gets it, we hope he will be able to go toOxford, for he does so want to be a barrister."

  "But, my dear, eighty pounds a year would not pay his expenses at anyuniversity." And then Althea bit her lip as though she had said morethan she intended.

  "Oh, we know that," returned Waveney, eagerly, "but we thought--atleast, Noel thought--that perhaps the veiled Prophet----" And then shebroke into a laugh. "How absurd I am! As though you could understand!But Noel is always so ridiculous, and gives such funny names to people!The veiled Prophet is that kind friend of mother's who has sent him toSt. Paul's."

  "A friend of your mother's, my dear?" Althea's tone was a littleperplexed.

  "Father always says it is some friend of mother's, but, of course, it isall guess-work. The lawyer, who pays his bills, tells us nothing;" andthen, partly to amuse her hearer, and partly because it gave herpleasure to narrate anecdotes of the lad's cleverness and sense ofhumour, she told her how Noel intended one day to go to Lincoln's Innand interview the old lawyer. And there was something so racy in thegirl's manner, and she imitated Noel's voice so well, that Althea, whohad been trying to suppress her amusement for some minutes, gave up theeffort, and broke into a hearty laugh.

  "My dear, you have done me good," she said, when they were seriousagain, "and my evening, thanks to you, has passed very pleasantly. But Iam going to send you away now, as I must not talk any more." And then,as Waveney rose from her chair at this dismissal, she drew her gentlytowards her, and kissed her cheek. "I am your friend; remember that,Waveney," she said, in her quiet voice, and the girl blushed withsurprise and pleasure.

  The next morning Waveney was summoned to the library. She found Althealooking pale and weak, but she had discarded her shade. She was restingin a deep, easy-chair, and her lap was full of letters.

  Waveney found that her work was cut out for her, and for more than anhour she was busily engaged in writing the answers dictated to her. Onewas to Mrs. Wainwaring, and Waveney felt great pleasure in writing it.She had not forgotten Fairy Magnificent. She had taken a fancy to thepretty old lady, and longed to see her again. When Althea had finishedher correspondence, she put a volume of "Robert Browning's Life" intothe girl's hand.

  "I must not use my eyes to-day," she said, with a sigh, "so if you willbe good enough to read to me, I will finish my jersey. Knitting andcrochet are my only amusements on my blind days. We work for theSeamen's Miss
ion." And then she added, brightly, "It is such a luxuryhaving some one to read to me. We shall get through so many nice books,you and I."

  The morning passed so quickly that both of them were surprised when thegong sounded. After luncheon Waveney was told to go out and amuseherself until tea-time, and she spent a delightful afternoon ramblingover the common, with Fuss and Fury frolicking beside her. The littleterriers evidently regarded her as a new playmate, and were on thefriendliest terms with her.

  On going up to her room to dress for dinner, which was always an hourearlier on Thursdays, she noticed a group of girls in the verandah ofthe Porch House. Some were sitting down, and others standing about withracquets in their hands. Through the open window she could hear merryvoices and laughter. Laura Cairns and the other girl were with them. Theyoung housemaid who waited on her volunteered an explanation as she setdown the hot-water can.

  "Those are the young ladies from the Dereham shops, ma'am. It is earlyclosing-day with most of them, and they come up early to play tennis."Althea looked amused when Waveney repeated this speech.

  "They are young ladies to Dorcas," she said, laughing. "But, indeed,some of these girls are so intelligent, and so truly refined, that oneneed not grudge them the term. One or two of them would grace anydrawing-room; but, of course, we have our dressy smart girls, too. Bythe bye, Waveney, do you play tennis?" And as Waveney shook her head, "Ithought not. The houses in Cleveland Terrace have only small gardens,and you would have no opportunity of practising; but I am a devoutbeliever in tennis."

  "Mollie and I always longed to play," returned Waveney, with a sigh."But, of course, it was out of the question for Mollie."

  "Yes, but it is quite possible for you, and if you like, Nora Greenwellwill teach you; she is our crack player. Even my sister, who is severelycritical, allows that she makes wonderful strokes; eh, Dorrie?"

  "She plays exceedingly well," returned Doreen, looking up from ascrap-book she was making for a children's hospital. "But then, MissGreenwell does everything well. She is to take Rosalind's part to-night,is she not?" Althea winced slightly as Doreen asked the question. To herdying day she would never hear Rosalind's part read or acted, withoutsecret emotion. She had dreaded this evening ever since the play of _AsYou Like It_ was decided upon, but none the less she had determined tobe present.

  "Yes," she returned, rather hastily, "of course, Mr. Chaytor selectedthat part for her, as Nora is certainly our best reader. Minnie Alstonwill be Celia." And then she turned to Waveney. "They are my twofavourites. When my sister wishes to tease me, she calls them my twoparagons. And, indeed, I am proud of them. Oddly enough, they serve inthe same shop--that big haberdasher--Gardiner & Wells."

  "Miss Ward has not passed the shop, Althea. She has yet to makeacquaintance with Dereham."

  "Why do you call her Miss Ward?" returned Althea, playfully. "It is fartoo stiff a name for her. Follow my example and call her Waveney."

  But Doreen looked a little dubious at this. She was a kind-heartedwoman, but an undemonstrative one, and her sister's pretty speeches andlittle caressing ways often filled her with envy.

  Dinner that evening was rather hurried, and the moment it was overAlthea took up a light wrap and invited Waveney to accompany her to thePorch House.

  The girls had finished their tea, and were now arranging the room fortheir reading. Althea paused doubtfully on the threshold as she heardthe commotion.

  "We are a little early," she said; "and they never like me to find themin confusion. I will show you the kitchen, Waveney. Is this not a nicelittle place? And that room beyond is where the girls wash their handsand brush their hair. There is a store-room, too, where I keep my jamsand cake."

  A pale-faced young widow was washing up the tea-cups as they entered.She brightened up as Althea addressed her.

  "That is my caretaker, Mrs. Shaw," observed Althea, in a low voice."Come, they are fairly quiet now, and we may as well go in, as Mr.Chaytor is generally punctual."

  Waveney felt a little shy as she followed Althea. The great room seemedfull of girls. There were thirty or forty of them, but Althea shookhands with every one, and had a pleasant word for each.

  "This is my friend, Miss Ward," she said, in her clear voice, to theassembled girls. "Nora," singling out a tall girl, with an interestingface, "I am going to ask you to teach Miss Ward to play tennis. Theasphalt court behind the Porch House will soon be ready. Thanks to theearly closing movement, some of you will be able to have a game beforeit gets dark."

  "Yes, indeed, Miss Harford."

  "And we can practise our skating, too," interposed a pretty, dark girl.

  Waveney found out afterwards that it was Minnie Alston, and that she andNora were great chums.

  "That will be charming," returned Althea. She looked more like QueenBess than ever, as she stood in the circle of girls, with the lightshining on her ruddy hair and soft ruffles. "Now, girls, we must takeour places;" and then she beckoned Waveney to a long, high-backed settlethat stood by the fire. The room was large, and a little cold, so a firehad been lighted.

  Waveney looked round with intense interest. The Recreation Hall, as itwas called, was of noble dimensions, and evidently well-lighted, fromthe number of windows.

  There was a platform at one end, with a piano; and two or three easelsand half a dozen round tables, with gay, crimson cloths, occupied thecentre of the room. These were at once surrounded by groups of girls,some with books in their hands. The floor was stained, and somewarm-coloured rugs gave an air of comfort. A well-filled book-case, afew well-chosen prints, and a carved oak chair known as "Miss Harford'sthrone," comprised the remainder of the furniture.

  This evening Althea had vacated her throne for the settle, and a fewminutes later Doreen entered the room, and with a pleasant nod to thegirls, she seated herself by her sister.

  Althea looked pleased, but she was evidently surprised. Waveneydiscovered afterwards that it was not Miss Harford's habit to attend theThursday meetings. The sisters had their different hobbies. Doreen'sactive energies found plenty of scope in her "Home for Broken-downWorkers," and though Althea had contributed largely to it, and alwaysvisited it at least once a week, it was Doreen who was the head andmain-spring of the whole concern. The committee of management, comprisedof a few personal friends in the neighbourhood, were merely tools in hervigorous hands.

  "I wanted to hear Miss Greenwell's Rosalind," she whispered. And then aman's step sounded in the little passage. There was a quick rap at thedoor, the girls all rose from their seats, and Althea went forward witha smile of welcome.

  "You are punctual to a minute, Thorold," she said, as she shook hands."Miss Ward, this is our old friend, Mr. Chaytor;" but as Waveney boweddemurely, a sudden gleam of amusement sparkled in her eyes; for lo andbehold! it was "the noticeable man, with large grey eyes" who hadenquired the way in Ranelagh Gardens.