'When is Carry Price ever going to leave school?'
'When she can play Mendelssohn well enough to satisfy Mr. Bevan. I wonder Lady Price does keep her on here, but in the meantime we can only make the best of her.'
A day or two later, Wilmet and Angela came in from school eager, indignant, and victorious.
'You did manage it well! the younger was saying. 'I was so glad you saw for yourself.-Just fancy, Cherry, there were Carry Price and Lizzie Bruce turning out all the most secret corners of Miss Knevett's work-box, laughing at them, and asking horrid impertinent questions, and she was almost crying.'
'And you fetched Wilmet?'
'She was sitting out in the garden, showing some of the little ones how to do their crochet-it was the play-time after dinner-and I just went to her and whispered in her ear, and so she strolled quietly by the window.'
'Yes,' added Wilmet, 'and before I came to it Edith was saying to Jane Martin, on purpose for me to hear, that she thought it would be a good thing if Miss Underwood would look into the school-room. So Angel was not getting into a scrape.'
'I should not have minded if I had,' said Angel; 'it was such a shame, and she looks such a dear-'
'There she was,' said Wilmet, 'her fingers shaking, and her eyes full of tears, trying to do some work, while Carry Price went on in her scoffing voice, laughing over all the little treasures and jewels, and asking who gave them to her, and what they cost. All I could do was to put my hand on her shoulder and say I saw she did not like it; and then Lizzie Bruce looked ashamed, but Miss Price bristled up, and declared that Miss Knevett had unlocked the box herself. Then the poor child burst out that she had only said she would show her Maltese cross; she had never asked them to turn everything out, and meddle with it; and Carry tossed her head, just like my Lady, and said, "Oh, very well, they did not want to see her trumpery, since she was so cross about it. I suppose you mean to show the things one by one to the little girls! A fine exhibition!" She cried out, "Exhibit! I don't mean to exhibit at all; I only showed it to you as my friend!" Whereupon Carry Price flounced off with, "As if I were going to make a friend of an underteacher!" and she went into a tremendous fit of crying, like what you used to have, Cherry, except that it was more passionate!'
'I'm sure I never had anything like that to cry for. What did you do with her? How lucky she had you!'
'Why, when she went on sobbing, "I'll not stay here," "I won't be insulted." "I'll tell my aunts," my great object was to get her upstairs, and to silence her, for I was sure Miss Pearson would dislike nothing so much as having a regular complaint from her about Carry; and, besides that, all the girls, who pity her now, would be turned against her, and think her a mischief-maker. I did get her up at last, and, oh dear! what a scene we had! Poor thing, I suppose she has been a spoilt child, going to a lady's fashionable institute, as she calls it, where she was a great girl, and rather looked up to, for the indulgences she got from her father-very proud, too, of being a major's daughter. Then came the step-mother; what things she said about her, to be sure! No end of misery, and disputes-whose fault, I am sure I don't know; then a crisis of debts. She says it was all Mrs. Knevett's extravagance; but Miss Pearson told me before that she thought it had been going on a long time; and at last, when the father and his wife and her child go off to Jersey, this poor girl is turned over to the aunts she never saw since her mother died, twelve years ago.'
'I dare say it is the best thing for her.'
'If she can only think so; but she fancies the being a teacher the most horrid thing in the world.'
'Oh, Wilmet!' interrupted Angela; 'why, you like teaching: and Robin means to be a real governess, and so do I, if I am not a Sister!'
'Me too,' called out Stella.
'But you see this unlucky girl can't understand that teaching may be a real way of doing good; she fancies it a degradation. She says she and her friends at her institute hated and despised the teachers, and played all manner of tricks upon them.'
'How foolish the teachers must have been!'
'She did say something about their being low and mean. She did me the favour to say not like me, and that she was quite shocked to find I was one of this dreadful race. It was quite amazing to her when I told her how Robina's dear Miss Lyveson keeps school without necessity, only to be useful. You may imagine what it is to her to be plunged all on a sudden into this unhappy class. She began by trying to take her old place as an officer's daughter, and to consort with the girls; but I think if she and Carry Price were left to one another, she would very soon sink as low as any of the poor hounded teachers she describes.'
'She must be very silly and conceited.'
'No, I think she is sensible, and loving too, at the bottom,' said Wilmet, 'only every one is strange here. I think she will understand better soon; and in the meantime she has quite forgiven me for being a teacher. She clung about me, and called me all sorts of pretty names-her only friend, and so forth.'
'Perhaps she can forgive you for being a teacher, in consideration of your being a twin,' said Cherry.
'There, Cherry, you understand her better already than I do! I'll bring her to you, I have not time for such a friendship.'
'Poor thing! I should like to try to comfort her, if she is strange and dreary; but I think she must be rather a goose. What's her name?'
'Alice; but in school Miss Pearson is very particular about having her called Miss Knevett. We have exchanged Christian names in private, of course.'
'You horrid old prosy thing of four U's,' said Geraldine. 'You are sitting up there, you great fair creature, you, for the poor child to worship and adore, and not reciprocating a bit!'
'Of course,' said Wilmet, 'if she can't be happy without being petted, I must pet her, and let her be nonsensical about me; but I think it is all great stuff, and that you will suit her much better than I ever shall.'
'Do you never mean to have a friend, Mettie?'
'Oh no, I haven't time; besides, I've got Alda.'
Geraldine had, however, many dreams about the charms of friendship. She read of it in the books that Felix selected for her; and Robina had a vehement affection for a schoolfellow whose hair and whose carte she treasured, and to whom she would have written daily during the holidays but for the cost of stamps. The equality and freedom of the letters she received always made Cherry long for the like. Since Edgar had left her, she had never been on those equal terms with any one; Wilmet was more like mother or aunt than sister; and though Felix had a certain air of confidence and ease when with her, and made her his chief playfellow, he could not meet all her tastes or all her needs; and there was a sort of craving within her for intimacy with a creature of her own species.
And though Wilmet's description of Alice Knevett did not sound particularly wise, Cherry, in her humility, deemed her the more secure of being on her own level, not so sensible and intolerant of little dreams, fancies, and delusions as those two sensible people, the twin sisters. So she watched impatiently for the introduction; and at last Wilmet said, 'Well, she is coming to tea to-morrow evening. Little ridiculous chit, she bridled and doubted, but as you were an invalid, she supposed she might, only it was not what she had been used to, and Papa "might object."'
'What? To the shop? Well, I really think she had better not come! I'll have nobody here that thinks it a favour, and looks down on Felix.'
'My dear, if she contrives to look down on Felix after she has seen him, she will deserve anything you please. Just now, I believe the foolishness is in her school, and not in herself.'
Nevertheless, Geraldine's eagerness underwent a great revulsion. Instead of looking forward to the visit, she expected it with dread, and dislike to the pert, conceited, flippant Londoner, who despised her noble brother, and aspired to the notice of Carry Price. Her nervous shrinking from strangers-the effect of her secluded life- increased on her every moment of that dull wet afternoon; her feet grew cold, her cheeks hot, and she could hardly find temper or patience for
the many appeals of Bernard and Stella for her attention.
Her foolish little heart was palpitating as if a housebreaker were entering instead of Wilmet, conducting a dainty cloud of fresh lilac muslin, out of which appeared a shining black head, and a smiling sparkling face, with so much life and play about the mouth and eyes that there was no studying their form or colour, and it was only after a certain effort that it could be realised that Alice Knevett was a glowing brunette, with a saucy little nose, retrousse, though very pretty, a tiny mouth full of small pearls, and eyes of black diamond.
In spite of her gracious manner, and evident consciousness of her own condescension, the winsomeness of the dancing eyes fascinated Cherry at once. Indeed, the simplicity and transparency of her little dignities disarmed all displeasure, they were so childish; and they vanished in a moment in a game at play with Bernard and Stella. When Wilmet brought out Geraldine's portfolio, her admiration was enthusiastic if not critical.
A sketch of Wilmet and Alda enchanted her; she had never seen anything so lovely or so well done.
'No, no,' said Cherry, rather shocked, 'you must have seen the Royal Academy.'
'Oh, but I am sure this ought to be in the Royal Academy; I never saw anything there that I liked half so much. How clever you must be!'
Cherry could not but laugh at the extravagant compliment. 'My brother Edgar draws much better than that,' she said, producing a capital water-colour of a group of Flemish market-women.
'I shall always like yours best. Oh! and what is this?'
'I did not know it was there,' said Cherry, colouring, and trying to take it away.
'Oh, let me look. What! Is it a storm, or a regatta, or fishing boats? What is that odd light? What is written under? "The waves of this troublesome world." Why, that is in the Bible, is not it?'
'Thirteen boats, Cherry,' said Wilmet; 'is that a device of your own?'
'What, not copied? Oh dear! I wish I was so clever!'
'It is the sea of this life, isn't it?' said Angela, coming up. 'Is it ourselves, Cherry, all making for the golden light of Heaven, and the star of faith guiding them?'
'She reads it like a book,' exclaimed Alice. 'And those two close together-that means love, I suppose!'
'Love and help, the weak and the strong,' said Geraldine, in her earnest dreamy voice.
'Do pray make a picture of my boat on a nice smooth sea of light; I don't like rocks and breakers, such as you have done there.'
'There always must be a last long wave,' said Cherry.
'Oh, but don't let us think about horrid things. I like the summer sea. Aren't there some verses-
'"Youth at the prow, and pleasure at the helm?"'
'That would not be a pleasant augury,' said Cherry. 'Do you know what this is meant for, bad as it is? Longfellow's verses-'
'The phantom host that beleaguered the walls of Prague? How can you draw such things?'
'So I say,' observed Wilmet.
'They come and haunt me, and I feel as if I must.'
'Who is this kneeling on the wall? He looks like a knight watching his armour.'
'So he is,' said Cherry.
'But there is nothing about him in the poem. Did you make him for yourself?'
'Why, he is Ferdinand Travis!' exclaimed Wilmet.
'What, is it a real man? I thought it was somebody in a story.'
'I see! said Angela quietly. 'He is watching his armour the night before he was baptized.'
For the child had never forgotten the adult baptism, though she had been little more than four years old at the time; but she was one of those little ones to whom allegory seems a natural element, with which they have more affinity than with the material world.
However, the mention of Ferdinand Travis led to the history of the fire at the hotel, and of his recovery, Alice declared that 'everything nice' seemed to happen at Bexley, and was laughed at for her peculiar ideas of niceness; but there was something in the feminine prattle that was wonderfully new and charming to Geraldine, while, on the other hand, the visitor was conscious of a stimulus and charm that she had never previously experienced; and the eager tongues never flagged till Felix came in. He had evidently taken pains with his toilette, in honour of the unusual event; and the measured grave politeness of his manners renewed Alice's scared punctilious dignity of demeanour, and entire consciousness that she was a major's daughter and he a bookseller.
But Felix had brought in some exciting Eastern news; and Alice put on an air capable, as one connected with India and the army, but she soon found out the deficiency of her geography, and was grateful for the full clear explanations, while her amour propre was gratified by finding that her familiarity with a few Indian terms was valuable. Before the end of the evening all were at ease, and she was singing with Felix and Wilmet at the old piano.
No sooner had the door shut on her when the maid came to fetch her, than a storm fell on Wilmet.
'So that's what you call rather nice-looking?'
'Well, she is under-sized and very brown, but I did think you would have allowed that she was rather pretty.'
'Rather!' exclaimed Cherry indignantly.
'That's what it is to be a handsome woman!' said Felix.
'Do you mean to say that you think her anything remarkable?' said Wilmet.
'Say no more, my dear W. W.,' laughed Felix. 'I never understood before why negroes don't admire white people.'
'I am sure I don't know what you are talking about,' said Wilmet, betaking herself to her darning with great good-humour. 'Alice Knevett is prettier than I thought she was when she was all tears and airs; but I can't see any remarkable beauty to rave about.'
'No, you can't,' said Geraldine merrily. 'You look much too high over her head, but you see I don't; and such a little sparkling diamond beetle is a real treat to me.'
And Geraldine often enjoyed the treat.
In a very short time the green door and steep stairs were as familiar to Alice as to the Underwoods themselves, for her aunts were thankful to have her happy and safe, and she was rapturously fond of Geraldine, reflecting and responding to most of her sentiments. Most of the Underwoods had the faculty of imprinting themselves upon the characters of their friends, by taking it for granted that they felt alike; and Alice Knevett had not spent six weeks at Bexley before she had come to think it incredible that she had thought either teaching or the Underwoods beneath her. She was taking pains to do her work well, and enjoying it, and was being moulded into a capital subordinate to Wilmet; while with Geraldine she read and talked over her books, obtained illustrations for the poetry she wrote out in her album, and brought in a wholesome air of chatter, which made Cherry much more girl-like than she had ever been before. It was an importation of something external, something lively and interesting, which was very refreshing to all; and even Felix, in his grave politeness and attention to his sister's friend, manifested that so far from being in his way, as they had feared, he found her a very agreeable element when she joined the home party or the Sunday walk.
Indeed, there was a certain tendency to expansion about the life of the young people; the pinch of poverty was less griping than previously, and their natural spirits rose. In January Lance was allowed to bring his friend Harewood to a concert of the choral society; and on the following evening Alice Knevett came to tea, and there was a series of wonderful charades, chiefly got up by Clement and Robina, and of comic songs by Lance and Bill Harewood-all with such success, that Alice declared that she had never seen anything so delightful in all her experience of London Christmases!
The young people really seemed to have recovered elasticity enough that year to think of modest treats and holidays as they had never ventured to do since that memorable sixteenth birthday of Felix's. Here was his twenty-first not very far off; and when it was announced that this identical 3rd of July had been fixed on for a grand choral meeting at the Cathedral, at which the choir of Bexley was to assist, there was such a spirit of enterprise abroad in
the family, that Geraldine suggested that Wilmet might take Robina to see the Cathedral and hear Lance.
'Lance will be just what will not be heard,' said Felix. 'They will not show off their solos; but the Robin ought to have the pleasure, if possible; and as I go in two capacities, press and choir, I hope we can manage it for her.'
He came in full early for the evening. 'All right,' he said. 'Two tickets are come for the Pursuivant, and Mr. Froggatt says he would not go at any price; and besides, each of the choir may take a friend-so that's three.'
'Am I to be reporter or friend?' asked Wilmet.
'Reporter, I think, for you will have to do audience.'
'Nay, Cherry ought to be the gentleman connected with the press,' said Wilmet, for in fact Geraldine did sometimes do copying and correcting work for her brother; 'and, indeed, I do not see why she should not. We could go home directly after morning service, and leave you there.'
'Oh no, impossible,' said Geraldine, 'it would never do; it would only spoil everybody's pleasure, and be too much for me.'
'I think you are wise,' said Felix; and somehow it struck her with a prick that he had rather the proposal had not been made. 'There is sure to be a great crush, and I may be obliged to be with the choir.'
'I am quite able to take care of her, I can always lift her,' said Wilmet, surprised.
'I would not go on any account,' protested Cherry. 'I should be like the old woman in that Servian proverb, who paid five dollars to go to the fair, and would have paid ten to be safe at home again.'
'There might be no getting a bench fit for you to sit upon,' added Felix, who, as a gentleman of the press, was not devoid of experience. 'I could not be easy about you, my dear; it is much safer not.'
'Perhaps so,' owned Wilmet, disappointed; 'but Angel is too little for such a long day, and Cherry is so much stronger, that I thought-'
'Oh, but could not Alice Knevett go?' put in Cherry.
'A very good suggestion,' said Felix. 'She hardly ever has any amusements. Well thought of, Whiteheart!'
The Pillars of the House, V1 Page 26
