Mollie's Prince: A Novel

by Rosa Nouchette Carey

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  JOANNA TANGLES HER SKEIN.

  "A child of our grandmother Eve, a female; or, for thy more sweet understanding, a woman."

  SHAKESPEARE.

  "Men are born with two eyes, but with one tongue, in order that they should see twice as much as they say."

  COLTON.

  The house in High Street where the Chaytors lived was somewhat dingy anduninviting in its outward aspect, but inside it was not without itsadvantages.

  A small paved court separated it from the street; and at night its frontwindows were illuminated by the flaring gaslights from the oppositeshops. All day long the ceaseless patter of foot-passengers on thepavement, and the rumble and rattle of cabs, omnibuses, and carts, madethe narrow windows shake in their frames. And it was far into the nightbefore silence brooded over the old town.

  On one side of the passage was a small room where Thorold kept a goodmany of his books and papers. It was called the study, but he never satthere. Joanna had long ago proved to him that with one servant and alimited purse, an extra fire would be quite a sinful extravagance. Itwas for this reason too that she so seldom used her drawing-room. It wasa pretty room on the first floor, with a pleasant view of the garden,and in summer she liked to sit at the open window with her work, andwatch Thorold digging and raking in the borders. Gardening was hisfavourite amusement, and he took great pride in his flower-beds.Sometimes, when she had leisure, Joanna would weed or water a little;but she always made much of these labours.

  The room they mostly used was a large one on the ground floor. Itextended from the front to the back of the house, and the two narrowwindows at the farther end overlooked the shady old garden.

  This part of the room was furnished as a study. The stained book-shelveswere loaded with ponderous-looking books. A writing-table occupied onewindow, and two comfortable easy-chairs, and Joanna's overflowingwork-basket, stood on either side of the fireplace. A book-stand and areading-lamp were by Thorold's chair; the front portion of the room wasused for their meals.

  When Thorold came down that evening the room looked warm and cosy. Thecrimson curtains were drawn, and a bright fire blazed cheerfully. Thesupper was laid, and Jemima had just brought in a small, covered dish,and placed it before her mistress. Thorold was hungry, for his luncheonhad been a light one. For a wonder, the chops were well cooked and hot;and as he helped himself to the nicely browned mashed potatoes, he feltdisposed to enjoy himself. He would tell Joanna about his visit toMurdoch & Williams. She would be interested; and for once they wouldhave a sociable evening. He even thought that he would ask for a cup ofcoffee, as he felt chilled and tired. And then, by way of making himselfpleasant, he commended Jemima's cookery.

  It was an unfortunate choice of subjects. Joanna, who had beentranquilly eating her supper, suddenly grew red and querulous.

  "Ah, she can cook well enough if she chooses," she returned, "but there!she so seldom chooses to take pains. Thorold, I shall have to part withthat girl; her wastefulness and extravagance are beyond everything. Andthen she is so self-willed, too--she will not mind anything I tell her.Again and again I have begged her not to put an egg in the rice pudding,but she does it all the same."

  "I suppose she thinks the egg will make the pudding nicer," returnedThorold, mildly; and then, to change the subject, he said, boldly, "Ihave rather a headache this evening, dear. Do you think Jemima couldmake me a cup of coffee?"

  "She could make it, but I doubt if you would care to drink it," shereturned, fretfully. "And she wants to go out, too. She has got a youngman, I know she has; I taxed her with it this very morning, and she wasas impertinent as possible."

  "My dear Joa"--for his sense of fairness was roused by this--"why shouldnot the poor girl have a lover? She is very good-looking, and as long asshe conducts herself properly I can see no objection to the young man."

  "Yes, and she will be having him in, and giving him supper when we areout--not that I ever do go out, Heaven knows! I declare I quite envyyou, Thorold, going out every morning to your work. Women's lives arefar more dull and monotonous than men's;" here Joanna's voice waxed moreplaintive than ever--it was naturally rather a sweet voice, butfretfulness and discontent had deadened the harmony. If, as they say,the closing of an eyelid will shut out the lustre of a planet, so, toJoanna, the small everyday worries seemed to obliterate the larger andgrander interests of life. Jemima's good looks, her lover, her smallimpertinences and misdemeanours, loomed like gigantic shadows on herhorizon. "If she could only learn the right proportion of things!"Thorold had said once to Althea, almost in despair.

  When Joanna made her dolorous little speech, Thorold raised his eyesfrom his plate and looked at her. "Why do you not go to the Red Houseoftener?" he asked, gravely. "You know how glad they would be to haveyou. You stay at home too much, Joa, but it is your own fault, you know.Doreen and Althea are always sending you invitations."

  "Yes, I know, and I am very fond of Althea. But somehow I never care togo to the Red House; it reminds me too much of the dear old Manor House.That room of Althea's makes me quite shiver when I enter it."

  "Oh, I would not give way to those feelings, Joa," he returned, hastily."In life one has to harden one's self to all sorts of things, and it isno use moping and brooding over troubles that cannot be altered. IfJemima wants to go out, perhaps we had better not wait any longer." Andthen he lighted his reading lamp, and unfolded his paper. In spite ofthe well-cooked chops, supper had certainly not been more festive thanusual.

  And then a strange fancy came to Thorold. How would it be with him ifsome younger, brighter face were to be opposite to him, evening afterevening. Would not his home, humble as it was, be a very differentplace? He knew why he was happier in his chambers at Lincoln's Inn. Tohis reserved temperament, solitude was far preferable than uncongenialfellowship with this small human soul, this weary little pilgrim forevercarrying her heavy pack of worries.

  "Poor dear Joa," he said to himself, for his keen eyes had noticed thereddened eyelids. "Very likely she remembers that it is Tristram'sbirthday, and that he is thirty-eight to-day."

  Jemima had cleared the table and vanished. He was still alone, andRabat-la-Koum was curled up like a huge grey ball at his feet; theleading article was unusually clever, and absorbed him until a suddenfragrance pervaded the room, and there stood Joanna at his elbow with asteaming cup of coffee.

  "I waited until Jemima went out, and then I made it myself. It is verystrong coffee, Thorold, and it will do your head good." Joanna's voicewas a little more cheerful as she said this, and the slight flush fromher exertions made her look younger.

  Thorold was quite touched; he put out his hand and patted his sister'sarm caressingly. "How good of you to take so much trouble, my dear! Inever thought of the coffee again. Sit down, Joa, and let us becomfortable. I have been wanting to tell you something all the evening."

  "Have you, indeed?" and Joanna brightened. "Wait a moment. I want towind some wool. I can hear you talk all the same. And yet I must mentionone thing before you begin. The gas man called for his account, and youforgot to leave the cheque.''

  "Did I? I was in a hurry. But I will write it before I go to bed."

  "Thank you. And there is one other thing, Thorold. If Jemima goes at hermonth, as she threatens, will she not forfeit her wages? You are alawyer, so you ought to know."

  "I am quite sure Jemima means to do nothing of the kind," he returned,impatiently. "Look here, Joa, she is the best servant we have had yet,and I would rather raise her wages than part with her. Take my advicefor once, praise her a little more and find fault with her a littleless; and if you are wise you will leave her young man alone;" and thenhe drank his coffee, moodily. Joanna had quenched his attempt atconversation again. Joanna pondered Thorold's advice as she unravelledher skein of yarn; it was somewhat tangled, and as she pulled it withnervous jerks, the yarn snapped and the ball rolled from her hand.

&nb
sp; Thorold suppressed a forcible interjection as he groped under his chairfor the ball. If ever he married, he determined that one of the firstrules he would make for his wife's guidance would be that allwool-winding should be done by daylight.

  Joanna had a tiresome habit of leaving a tangled skein for thecomparative leisure of the evening hours. Thorold used to wondersometimes if all her skeins were tangled. It got on his nerves sometimesand spoilt the enjoyment of his reading. Joanna's limp, nervelessmovements, her jerky beginnings and abrupt endings, her brief spasms ofenergy, and the inevitable hunt for the unlucky ball, irritated him attimes beyond endurance. It is quite ridiculous and almost derogatory toone's dignity to think how much daily life is marred by these smallfrets and torments. The buzzing of a bluebottle against the window-paneis certainly preferable to a brass band when the instruments arecracked, but the whizzing and fizzing of the insect may in time jar onthe ear; and to thin-skinned people a midge's bite is fruitful ofirritation.

  Joanna was making up her mind slowly that her brother had given her goodcounsel, and that perhaps it would be well for her to follow it. Thoroldwas the master of the house, and if he wished to keep Joanna, of coursethe girl must stay. And when Joanna had arrived at this point, she brokethe thread of her yarn again.

  "I thought there was something you wanted to tell me, Thorold," shesaid, rather reproachfully, when she had found a new beginning. "I havebrought my work and am ready to talk, but you do nothing but read." ThenThorold threw down his paper impatiently.

  "I thought you were too busy with that work," he returned, rathercurtly; "and, after all, it does not matter. It was only about my ownbusiness affairs."

  "Oh, but I want to hear it," replied his sister, with much mildobstinacy. "It is seldom that you do care to talk to me, Thorold;" andhere Joanna's voice was decidedly plaintive. "I sometimes think that ifit were not for finding fault with Jemima I should almost lose the useof my voice."

  Thorold was fast losing patience. Joanna was in one of her most tryingmoods; she was at once aggressive and despondent. She was at all timesvery tenacious of her sisterly privileges, and nothing offended her morethan being kept in the dark. Well, he might as well get it over and bedone with it; but he would be as brief as possible. "I only wanted totell you that I have had a very satisfactory interview with Murdoch &Williams."

  "Oh, indeed"--and here Joanna frowned anxiously over her skein. "Theyare solicitors, are they not?"

  "Yes, but they are very big people. Joa, I think I am likely to get thebrief. You see"--warming to his subject--"our last case was sosatisfactory, and we got our client such heavy damages, that Murdoch &Williams were quite pleased. The junior partner made himself verypleasant, and said all kinds of civil things."

  "And you think you will get it, Thorold?" and Joanna actually laid downher skein.

  "I shall certainly get it;" and Thorold's eyes flashed with triumph ashe spoke; at such moments his face was full of expression. "It will be abig case, Joa, and Sergeant Rivington will be leading counsel on ourside." And then again he told himself that his foot was on the rung ofthe ladder, and that he had begun to climb in earnest.

  "I am very glad, Theo;" and Joanna's blue eyes were rather tearful. Sheand Tristram had often called him Theo, but she seldom used the old petname now. Thorold smiled a little sadly as he heard it.

  "I knew you would be pleased, dear;" and his voice softened. "It willmake a great difference to our income. Joa, I have made up my mind thatthe last of the debts shall be paid off before Christmas, and we willbegin the New Year free and untrammelled. There shall be an end of allyour small peddling economies. We shall not be rich, but at least weneed not hoard our cheese-parings and candle-ends."

  "I do not know what you mean, Thorold!" returned Joanna, in a puzzledtone. "We never use candles except in the coal cellar."

  Then Thorold gave a grim, unmirthful laugh. If he ever married, the ladyof his choice should have some sense of humour; nothing is moreharassing and trying to the temper than to have to talk down to thelevel of one's daily companion. Althea once said, rather wittily, thatJoa's brains were like a nutmeg-grater--one had to rub one's nutmeg veryhard before the spicy fragments would filter through it.

  "Perhaps we may have a better house soon!" he said, after a pause. "Ishould like to be out of the town and higher up the hill. The air isfresher, and it would be quieter."

  "Oh, yes, much quieter!" Joanna smiled, and a pretty dimple came intoview; at that moment she looked almost like a girl.

  "We must wait for our good things a little," continued Thorold; "butthere is no need for us to stint ourselves. And Joa," here hehesitated--"why should you not smarten yourself up a bit. Get one or twonew dresses, or any fal-lals you require"--for his keen, observant eyeshad noticed that the old lilac silk that Joanna always wore of anevening, a relic of the old Manor House days, was faded and darned, andof obsolete fashion. He was a man who was always keenly alive to thewants and wishes of his womankind. But even as he made the suggestion,he wondered why Joanna was hoarding her five hundred pounds, and why sheshould not use a few pounds to replenish her scanty wardrobe. He knew,and had been very angry when he heard it, that Althea had actuallypresented her with a beautiful dress, for church; because she said Joawas too miserly to spend a penny on herself.

  Joanna blushed slightly when Thorold made his good-natured proposition."You are very kind, Theo," she said, gently, as she folded her white,nervous-looking hands over her skein, "but I go out so seldom, that I donot require many new dresses. I have Althea's merino, and"--eyeing herlilac silk complacently--"there is plenty of wear to be got out of myold gown yet!"

  "Well, you know best," returned Thorold, indifferently. If he had statedhis opinion candidly, he would have suggested that the gown in questionshould be relegated to Jemima or the rag-bag. Well, he had done his partnobly; and now he might take up Guizot's Life. But the next momentJoanna's plaintive tones arrested him.

  "Theo, do you remember what day this is?" And as he nodded, shecontinued, mournfully, "Trist is eight-and-thirty to-day; it is actuallyten years since we have seen him--ten long years." And now a slow tearor two welled down Joanna's face. "What a weary time it has been! And heand Ella have never written--not a line, not a single word, since theirlittle girl was born."

  "He was going to Australia then, and he seemed to write in goodspirits--we have his letter still, Joa. He was so pleased with hislittle daughter, and the prospect of the new berth offered him!"

  "Yes, but that was eight or nine years ago. Oh, Thorold, why does henever write? Do you think he has ceased to care for us?"

  "No, my dear, certainly not," replied her brother, kindly; for he wasmoved by her deep dejection. "But you know how casual and happy-go-luckythe dear old chap always was. Bad habits grow stronger as we growolder--remember that, Joa. Trist never liked making little efforts. Hehated writing letters even in his school days--probably he hates itstill. And yet, for all that, he may be flourishing on some sheep farmor other."

  But this view of the case did not comfort Joanna, and during the rest ofthe evening she shed silent tears over her tangled skein. And all thetime, not half a mile away, a man and a child sat hand in hand over asmoky little cindery fire; the child's shivering form wrapped in an oldInverness cape.

  "Is it always cold in England, father? Why does not Mrs. Grimson make upa big fire?"

  "Well, you see coals are dear, Bet, and the stove is a small one; but myold coat is warm and thick. Why, you look as snug as a robin in itsnest, or a squirrel in its hole, or a dormouse, or anything else youlike to name. I wonder what Aunt Joa will think of my little Betty whenshe sees her?" Then the child laughed gleefully.

  "Shall we really find them, father?"

  "Of course we shall find them, my girlie; but we must not tire thosepoor little feet too much. Put them up on my knee, darling, and dad willrub them and keep the chilblains away." And then, as he took the tinyfeet in his hand, Bet's thin little arm went round his neck.

  "Oh,
father, I do love you so. It makes me ache all over to love you sohard;" and then Bet rested her rough, tangled head against her father'sshoulder.