The Daisy Chain, or Aspirations

by Шарлотта Мэри Йондж

  Margaret could have said that Ethel had come in positively crying with vexation, but with no diminution of the spirit of perseverance.

  "I am so glad you are come, Richard!" she continued. "You will put a little new life into them. They all looked so pleased when we told them Mr. Richard was coming."

  "I hope we shall get on," said Richard.

  "I want you to judge whether the Popes are civilised enough to be dressed for Sunday-school. Oh, and the money! Here is the account- book--"

  "How neatly you have kept it, Ethel."

  "Ah! it was for you, you know. Receipts--see, aren't you surprised?"

  "Four pounds eighteen and eightpence! That is a great deal!"

  "The three guineas were Mr. Rivers's fees, you know; then, Margaret gave us half-a-sovereign, and Mary a shilling, and there was one that we picked up, tumbling about the house, and papa said we might have, and the twopence were little Blanche's savings. Oh, Ritchie!" as a bright coin appeared on the book.

  "That is all I could save this term," he said.

  "Oh, it is famous! Now, I do think I may put another whole sovereign away into the purse for the church. See, here is what we have paid. Shoes--those did bring our money very low, and then I bought a piece of print which cost sixteen shillings, but it will make plenty of frocks. So, you see, the balance is actually two pounds nine! That is something. The nine shillings will go on till we get another fee; for I have two frocks ready made for the Popes, so the two pounds are a real nest-egg towards the church."

  "The church!" repeated Rlchard, half smiling.

  "I looked in the paper the other day, and saw that a chapel had been built for nine hundred pounds," said Ethel.

  "And you have two!"

  "Two in eight months, Ritchie, and more will come as we get older. I have a scheme in my head, but I won't tell you now."

  "Nine hundred! And a church has to be endowed as well as built, you know, Ethel."

  "Oh! never mind that now. If we can begin and build, some good person will come and help. I'll run and fetch it, Ritchie. I drew out a sketch of what I want it to be."

  "What a girl that is!" said Richard, as Ethel dashed away.

  "Is not she?" said Margaret. "And she means all so heartily. Do you know she has spent nothing on her own pleasures, not a book, not a thing has she bought this year, except a present for Blanche's birthday, and some silk to net a purse for Harry."

  "I cannot help being sometimes persuaded that she will succeed," said Richard.

  "Faith, energy, self-denial, perseverance, they go a great way," said Margaret. "And yet when we look at poor dear Ethel, and her queer ungainly ways, and think of her building a church!"

  Neither Richard nor Margaret could help laughing, but they checked it at once, and the former said, "That brave spirit is a reproof to us all."

  "Yes," said Margaret; "and so is the resolution to mend her little faults."

  Ethel came back, having, of course, mislaid her sketch, and, much vexed, wished to know if it ought to cause her first forfeit, but Margaret thought these should not begin till the date of the agreement, and the three resumed the Cocksmoor discussion.

  It lasted till the return of the walking party, so late, that they had been star-gazing, and came in, in full dispute as to which was Cygnus and which Aquila, while Blanche was talking very grandly of Taurus Poniatouski, and Harry begging to be told which constellations he should still see in the southern hemisphere. Dr. May was the first to rectify the globe for the southern latitudes, and fingers were affectionately laid on Orion's studded belt, as though he were a friend who would accompany the sailor-boy. Voices grew loud and eager in enumerating the stars common to both; and so came bedtime, and the globe stood on the table in danger of being forgotten. Ethel diligently lifted it up; and while Norman exclaimed at her tidiness, Margaret told how a new leaf was to be turned, and of her voluntary forfeits.

  "A very good plan," cried the doctor. "We can't do better than follow her example."

  "What you, papa? Oh, what fun!" exclaimed Harry.

  "So you think I shall be ruined, Mr. Monkey. How do you know I shall not be the most orderly of all? A penny for everything left about, confiscated for the benefit of Cocksmoor, eh?"

  "And twopence for pocket-handkerchiefs, if you please," said Norman, with a gesture of disgust.

  "Very well. From Blanche, upwards. Margaret shall have a book, and set down marks against us--hold an audit every Saturday night. What say you, Blanche?"

  "Oh, I hope Flora will leave something about!" cried Blanche, dancing with glee.

  CHAPTER XXV.

  Oh, no, we never mention her, We never breathe her name.--SONG.

  A great deal of merriment had come home with Harry, who never was grave for ten minutes without a strong reaction, and distracted the house with his noise and his antics, in proportion, as it sometimes seemed, to the spaces of serious thought and reading spent in the study, where Dr. May did his best to supply Mr. Ramsden's insufficient attention to his Confirmation candidates, by giving an hour every day to Norman, Ethel, and Harry. He could not lecture, but he read with them, and his own earnestness was very impressive.

  The two eldest felt deeply, but Harry often kept it in doubt, whether he were not as yet too young and wild for permanent impressions, so rapid were his transitions, and so overpowering his high spirits. Not that these were objected to; but there was a feeling that there might as well be moderation in all things, and that it would have been satisfactory if, under present circumstances, he had been somewhat more subdued and diligent.

  "There are your decimals not done yet, Harry."

  For Harry, being somewhat deficient in arithmetic, had been recommended to work in that line during his visit at home--an operation usually deferred, as at present, to the evening.

  "I am going to do my sums now, Flora," said Harry, somewhat annoyed.

  He really fetched his arithmetic, and his voice was soon heard asking how he was ever to put an end to a sum that would turn to nothing but everlasting threes.

  "What have you been doing, young ladies?" asked Dr. May. "Did you call on Miss Walkingham?"

  "Flora and Blanche did," said Ethel; "I thought you did not want me to go, and I had not time. Besides, a London grand young lady--oh!" and Ethel shook her head in disgust.

  "That is not the way you treat Meta Rivers."

  "Oh, Meta is different! She has never been out!"

  "I should have been glad for you to have seen Miss Walkingham," said her father. Pretty manners are improving; besides, old Lady Walkingham begged me to send my daughters."

  "I should not have seen her," said Ethel, "for she was not well enough to let us in."

  "Was it not pushing?" said Flora. "There were the Andersons leaving their card!"

  "Those Andersons!" exclaimed the doctor; "I am sick of the very sound of the name. As sure as my name is Dick May, I'll include it in Margaret's book of fines."

  Flora looked dignified.

  "They are always harping on that little trumpery girl's nonsense," said Harry. "Aught, aught, eight, that is eight thousandths, eh, Norman! If it was about those two fellows, the boys--"

  "You would harp only on what affects you?" said the doctor.

  "No, I don't; men never do. That is one hundred and twenty-fifth."

  "One man does it to an hundred and twenty-five women?" said Dr. May.

  "It is rather a female defect, indeed," said Margaret.

  "Defect!" said Flora.

  "Yes," said Dr. May, "since it is not only irksome to the hearers, but leads to the breaking of the ninth commandment."

  Many voices declared, in forms of varying severity, that it was impossible to speak worse of the Andersons than they deserved.

  "Andersons again!" cried Dr. May. "One, two, three, four, five, six forfeits!"

  "Papa himself, for he said the name," saucily put in Blanche.

  "I think I should like the rule to be made in earnest," said Ethel.

&
nbsp; "What! in order to catch Flora's pence for Cocksmoor?" suggested Harry.

  "No, but because it is malice. I mean, that is, if there is dislike, or a grudge in our hearts at them--talking for ever of nasty little miserable irritations makes it worse."

  "Then why do you do it?" asked Flora. "I heard you only on Sunday declaiming about Fanny Anderson."

  "Ha!" cried out all at once. "There goes Flora."

  She looked intensely serious and innocent.

  "I know," said Ethel. "It is the very reason I want the rule to be made, just to stop us, for I am sure we must often say more than is right."

  "Especially when we come to the pass of declaring that the ninth commandment cannot be broken in regard to them," observed the doctor.

  "Most likely they are saying much the same of us," said Richard.

  "Or worse," rejoined Dr. May. "The injured never hates as much as the injurer."

  "Now papa has said the severest thing of all!" whispered Ethel.

  "Proving the inexpedience of personalities," said Dr. May, "and in good time enter the evening post.--Why! how now, Mr. May, are you gone mad?"

  "Hallo! why ho! ha! hurrah!" and up went Harry's book of decimals to the ceiling, coming down upon a candle, which would have been overturned on Ethel's work, if it had not been dexterously caught by Richard.

  "Harry!" indignantly cried Ethel and Flora, "see what you have done;" and the doctor's voice called to order, but Harry could not heed. "Hear! hear! he has a fortune, an estate."

  "Who? Tell us--don't be so absurd. Who?"

  "Who, Mr. Ernescliffe. Here is a letter from Hector. Only listen:

  "'Did you know we had an old far-away English cousin, one Mr. Halliday? I hardly did, though Alan was named after him, and he belonged to my mother. He was a cross old fellow, and took no notice of us, but within the last year or two, his nephew, or son, or something, died, and now he is just dead, and the lawyer wrote to tell Alan he is heir-at-law. Mr. Ernescliffe of Maplewood! Does it not sound well? It is a beautiful great place in Shropshire, and Alan and I mean to run off to see it as soon as he can have any time on shore.'"

  Ethel could not help looking at Margaret, but was ashamed of her impertinence, and coloured violently, whereas her sister did not colour at all, and Norman, looking down, wondered whether Alan would make the voyage.

  "Oh, of course he will; he must!" said Harry. "He would never give up now."

  Norman further wondered whether Hector would remain on the Stoneborough foundation, and Mary hoped they should not lose him; but there was no great readiness to talk over the event, and there soon was a silence broken by Flora saying, "He is no such nobody, as Louisa Anderson said, when we--"

  Another shout, which caused Flora to take refuge in playing waltzes for the rest of the evening. Moreover, to the extreme satisfaction of Mary, she left her crochet-needle on the floor at night. While a tumultuous party were pursuing her with it to claim the penny, and Richard was conveying Margaret upstairs, Ethel found an opportunity of asking her father if he were not very glad of Mr. Ernescliffe's good fortune.

  "Yes, very. He is a good fellow, and will make a good use of it."

  "And now, papa, does it not make--You won't say now you are sorry he came here."

  She had no answer but a sigh, and a look that made her blush for having ventured so far. She was so much persuaded that great events must ensue, that, all the next day, she listened to every ring of the bell, and when one at last was followed by a light, though, to her ears, manly sounding tread, she looked up flushing with expectation.

  Behold, she was disappointed. "Miss Walkingham" was announced, and she rose surprised, for the lady in question had only come to Stoneborough for a couple of days with an infirm mother, who, having known Dr. May in old times, had made it her especial request that he would let her see his daughters. She was to proceed on her journey to-day, and the return of the visit had been by no means expected.

  Flora went forward to receive her, wondering to see her so young looking, and so unformed. She held out her hand, with a red wrist, and, as far as could be seen under her veil, coloured when presented to the recumbent Margaret. How she got into her chair, they hardly knew, for Flora was at that moment extremely annoyed by hearing an ill-bred peal of Mary's laughter in the garden, close to the window; but she thought it best to appear unconscious, since she had no power to stop it.

  Margaret thought the stranger embarrassed, and kindly inquired for Lady Walkingham.

  "Much the same, thank you," mumbled a voice down in the throat.

  A silence, until Margaret tried another question, equally briefly answered; and, after a short interval, the young lady contrived to make her exit, with the same amount of gaucherie as had marked her entrance.

  Expressions of surprise at once began, and were so loud, that when Harry entered the room, his inquiry was, "What's the row?"

  "Miss Walkingham," said Ethel, "but you won't understand. She seemed half wild! Worse than me!"

  "How did you like the pretty improving manners?" asked Harry.

  "Manners! she had none," said Flora. "She, highly connected! used to the best society!"

  "How do you know what the best society do?" asked Harry.

  "The poor thing seemed very shy," said Margaret.

  "I don't know about shyness," said Flora.

  "She was stifling a laugh all the time, like a rude schoolboy. And I thought papa said she was pretty!"

  "Ay? Did you think her so? " asked Harry.

  "A great broad red face--and so awkward!" cried Flora indignantly.

  "If one could have seen her face, I think she might have been nice- looking," said Margaret. "She had pretty golden curls, and merry blue eyes, rather like Harry's."

  "Umph! said Flora; "beauty and manners seemed to me much on a par. This is one of papa's swans, indeed!"

  "I can't believe it was Miss Walkingham at all," said Ethel. "It must have been some boy in disguise."

  "Dear me!" cried Margaret, starting with the painful timidity of helplessness.

  "Do look whether anything is gone. Where's the silver inkstand?"

  "You don't think she could put that into her pocket," said Ethel, laughing as she held it up.

  "I don't know. Do, Harry, see if the umbrellas are safe in the hall. I wish you would, for now I come to remember, the Walkinghams went at nine this morning. Miss Winter said that she saw the old lady helped into the carriage, as she passed." Margaret's eyes looked quite large and terrified. "She must have been a spy--the whole gang will come at night. I wish Richard was here. Harry, it really is no laughing matter. You had better give notice to the police."

  The more Margaret was alarmed, the more Harry laughed. "Never mind, Margaret, I'll take care of you! Here's my dirk. I'll stick all the robbers."

  "Harry! Harry! Oh, don't!" cried Margaret, raising herself up in an agony of nervous terror. "Oh, where is papa? Will nobody ring the bell, and send George for the police?"

  "Police, police! Thieves! Murder! Robbers! Fire! All hands ahoy!" shouted Harry, his hands making a trumpet over his mouth.

  "Harry, how can you?" said Ethel, hastily; "don't you see that Margaret is terribly frightened. Can't you say at once that it was you?"

  "You!" and Margaret sank back, as there was a general outcry of laughter and wonder.

  "Did you know it, Ethel?" asked Flora severely.

  "I only guessed at this moment," said Ethel. "How well you did it, Harry!"

  "Well!" said Flora, "I did think her dress very like Margaret's shot silk. I hope you did not do that any harm."

  "But how did you manage?" said Ethel. "Where did your bonnet come from?"

  "It was a new one of Adams's wife. Mary got it for me. Come in, Polly, they have found it out. Did you not hear her splitting with laughing outside the window? I would not let her come in for fear she should spoil all."

  "And I was just going to give her such a scolding for giggling in the garden," said Flora, "and to say we had
been as bad as Miss Walkingham. You should not have been so awkward, Harry; you nearly betrayed yourself."

  "He had nobody to teach him but Mary," said Ethel.

  "Ah! you should have seen me at my ease in Minster Street. No one suspected me there."

  "In Minster Street. Oh, Harry, you don't really mean it!"

  "I do. That was what I did it for. I was resolved to know what the nameless ones said of the Misses May."

  Hasty and eager inquiries broke out from Flora and Ethel.

  "Oh, Dr. May was very clever, certainly, very clever. Had I seen the daughters? I said I was going to call there, and they said--"

  "What, oh, what, Harry?"

  "They said Flora was thought pretty, but--and as to Ethel, now, how do you think you came off, Unready?"

  "Tell me. They could not say the same of me, at any rate."

  "Quite the reverse! They called Ethel very odd, poor girl."

  "I don't mind," said Ethel. "They may say what they please of me; besides that, I believe it is all Harry's own invention."

  "Nay, that is a libel on my invention!" exclaimed Harry. "If I had drawn on that, could I not have told you something much droller?"

  "And was that really all?" said Flora.

  "They said--let me see--that all our noses were too long, and, that as to Flora's being a beauty! when their brothers called her--so droll of them--but Harvey called her a stuck-up duchess. In fact, it was the fashion to make a great deal of those Mays."

  "I hope they said something of the sailor brother," said Ethel.

  "No; I found if I stayed to hear much more, I should be knocking Ned down, so I thought it time to take leave before he suspected."

  All this had passed very quickly, with much laughter, and numerous interjections of amusement, and reprobation, or delight. So excited were the young people, that they did not perceive a step on the gravel, till Dr. May entered by the window, and stood among them. His first exclamation was of consternation. "Margaret, my dear child, what is the matter?"

  Only then did her brother and sisters perceive that Margaret was lying back on her cushions, very pale, and panting for breath. She tried to smile and say, "it was nothing," and "she was silly," but the words were faint, from the palpitation of her heart.