Gillian had some experience through her elder brothers, and suspected Master Varley of being guilty of heightening the horrors; so she assured Fergus that most boys had the same sort of Christian names, but were afraid to confess them to one another, and so called each other Bill and Jack. She advised him to call himself by his surname, not to mention his fathers title if he could help it, and, above all, not to seem to mind anything.
Her own spirits were much exhilarated the next morning by a note from Harry, the recipient of all telegrams, with tidings that the doctors were quite satisfied with Sir Jasper, and that Lady Merrifield had reached Brindisi.
There was great excitement at sight of a wet morning, for it appeared that an omnibus came round on such occasions to pick up the scholars; and Valetta thought this so delightful that she danced about exclaiming, What fun! and only wishing for Mysie to share it. She would have rushed down to the gate umbrellaless if Aunt Jane had not caught and conducted her, while Gillian followed with Fergus. Aunt Jane looked down the vista of young facesfive girls and three boysnodding to them, and saying to the senior, a tall damsel of fifteen,
Here are my children, Emma. You will take care of them, please. You are keeping order here, I suppose?
There was a smile and bow in answer as the door closed, and the omnibus jerked away its ponderous length.
Im sorry to see that Stebbing there, observed the aunt, as she went back; but Emma Norton ought to be able to keep him in order. It is well you have no lessons out of the house to-day, Gillian.
Are you going out then?
Oh yes! said Miss Mohun, running upstairs, and presently coming back with a school-bag and a crackling waterproof cloak, but pausing as she saw Gillian at the window, nursing the Sofy, and gazing at the gray cloud over the gray sea. You are not at a loss for something to do, she said, you said you meant to write to your mother.
Oh yes! said Gillian, suddenly fretted, and with a sense of being hunted, I have plenty to do.
I see, said Miss Mohun, turning over the books that lay on the little table that had been appropriated to her niece, in a way that, unreasonably or not, unspeakably worried the girl, Brachets French Grammarthats right. Colensos AlgebraI dont think they use that at the High School. Julius Caesaryou should read that up in Merivale.
I did, said Gillian, in a voice that very nearly said, Do let them alone.
Well, you have materials for a very useful, sensible mornings work, and when Ada comes down, very likely she will like to be read to.
Off went the aunt, leaving the niece stirred into an absolute desire, instead of spending the sensible morning, to take up Near Neighbours, and throw herself into an easy-chair; and when she had conscientiously resisted that temptation, her pen would hover over Hildas Experiences, even when she had actually written Dearest Mamma. She found she was in no frame to write such a letter as would be a comfort to her mother, so she gave that up, and made her sole assertion of liberty the working out of a tough double equation in Colenso, which actually came right, and put her in such good humour that she was no longer afraid of drumming the poor piano to death and Aunt Ada upstairs to distraction, but ventured on learning one of the Lieder ohne Worte; and when her Aunt Ada came down and complimented her on the sounds that had ascended, she was complacent enough to write a very cheerful letter, whilst her aunt was busied with her own. She described the Sunday-school question that had arisen, and felt sure that her father would pronounce his Gill to be a sensible young woman. Afterwards Miss Adeline betook herself to a beautiful lily of church embroidery, observing, as Gillian sat down to read to her Alphonse Karrs Voyage autour de mon Jardin, that it was a real pleasure to listen to such prettily-pronounced French. Kunz lay at her feet, the Sofy nestled in Gillians lap, and there was a general sense of being rubbed down the right way.
By and by there loomed through the rain two dripping shiny forms under umbrellas strongly inclined to fly away from themMiss Mohun and Mr. Grant, the junior curate, whom she had brought home to luncheon. Both were full of the irregularities of the two churches of Bellevue and St. Kenelms on the recent harvest-thanksgiving Sunday. It was hard to tell which was most reprobated, what St. Kenelms did or what Bellevue did not do. If the one blew trumpets in procession, the other collected the offertory in a warming-pan. Gillian had already begun to find that these misdoings supplied much conversation at Beechcroft Cottage, and began to get half weary, half curious to judge for herself of all these enormities; nor did she feel more interested in the discussion of who had missed church or school, and who needed tickets for meat, or to be stirred up to pay for their coal club.
At last she heard, Well, I think you might read to her, Gillian! Oh! were not you listening? A very nice girl near here, a pupil teacher, who has developed a hip complaint, poor child. She will enjoy having visits from you, a young thing like herself.
Gillian did not like it at all, but she knew that it would be wrong to refuse, and answered, Very well, with no alacrityhoping that it was not an immediate matter, and that something might happen to prevent it. But at that moment the sun came out, the rain had ceased, and there were glistening drops all over the garden; the weather quarter was clear, and after half an hours rest after dinner Aunt Jane jumped up, decreeing that it was time to go out, and that she would introduce Gillian to Lilian Giles before going on to the rest of her district.
She gathered a few delicate flowers in the little conservatory, and put them in a basket with a peach from the dessert, then took down a couple of books from the shelf. Gillian could not but acquiesce, though she was surprised to find that the one given to her was a translation of Undine.
The child is not badly off, explained Miss Mohun. Her father is a superior workman. She does not exactly want comforts, but she is sadly depressed and disappointed at not being able to go on with her work, and the great need is to keep her from fretting over her troubles, and interested in something.
Gillian began to think of one of the graceful hectic invalids of whom she had read, and to grow more interested as she followed Aunt Jane past the old church with the stout square steeple, constructed to hold, on a small side turret window, a light for the benefit of ships at sea. Then the street descended towards the marble works. There was a great quarry, all red and raw with recent blasting, and above, below, and around, rows of new little stuccoed, slated houses, for the work-people, and a large range of workshops and offices fronting the sea. This was Miss Mohuns district, and at a better-looking house she stopped and used the knocker.
That was no distinction; all had doors with knockers and sash windows, but this was a little larger, and the tiny strip of garden was well kept, while a beautiful myrtle and pelargonium peeped over the muslin blind; and it was a very nice-looking woman who opened the door, though she might have been the better for a cap. Aunt Jane shook hands with her, rather to Gillians surprise, and heard that Lily was much the same.
It is her spirits are so bad, you see, Miss Mohun, she added, as she ushered them into a somewhat stuffy little parlour, carpeted and bedecked with all manner of knick-knacks, photographs, and framed certificates of various societies of temperance and providence on the gaily-papered walls. The girl lay on a couch near the fire, a sallow creature, with a big overhanging brow, made heavier by a dark fringe, and an expression that Gillian not unjustly decided was fretful, though she smiled, and lighted up a little when she saw Miss Mohun.
It is her spirits are so bad, you see, Miss Mohun, she added, as she ushered them into a somewhat stuffy little parlour, carpeted and bedecked with all manner of knick-knacks, photographs, and framed certificates of various societies of temperance and providence on the gaily-papered walls. The girl lay on a couch near the fire, a sallow creature, with a big overhanging brow, made heavier by a dark fringe, and an expression that Gillian not unjustly decided was fretful, though she smiled, and lighted up a little when she saw Miss Mohun.
There was a good deal said about her bad nights, and her appetite, and how the doctor wanted her to take as much as she could, and how everything went against hereven lardy cake and roly-poly pudding with bacon in it!
Miss Mohun put the flowers on the little table near the girl, who smiled a little, and thanked her in a languid dreary manner. Finding that she had freshly been visited by the rector, Miss Mohun would not stop for any serious reading, but would leave Miss Merrifield to read a story to her.
And you ought to get on together, she said, smiling. You are just about the same age, and your names rhymeGillian and Lilian. And Gillians mother is a Lily too.
This the young lady lid not like, for she was already feeling it a sort of presumption in the girl to bear a name so nearly resembling her mothers. She had seen a little cottage poverty, and had had a class of little maidservants; but this level of life which is in no want, keeps a best parlour, and does not say maam, was quite new to her, and she did not fancy it. When the girls were left together, while Mrs. Giles returned to her ironing, Gillian was the shyer of the two, and began rather awkwardly and reluctantly
Miss Mohun thought you would like to hear this. It is a sort of German fairy tale.
Lilian said, Yes, Miss Merrifield in a short dry tone, completing Gillians distaste, and she began to read, not quite at her best, and was heartily glad when at the end of half an hour Mrs. Giles was heard in parley with another visitor, so that she had an excuse for going away without attempting conversation. She was overtaken by the children on their way home from their schools, where they had dined. They rushed upon her, together with the two Varleys, who wanted to take them home to tea; and Gillian giving her ready consent, Fergus dashed home to fetch his beloved humming-top, which was to be introduced to Clement Varleys pump, and in a few minutes they were off, hardly vouchsafing an answer to such comparatively trifling inquiries as how they were placed at their schools.
Gillian found, however, that neither of her aunts was pleased at her having consented to the childrens going out without reference to their authority. How did she suppose they were to come home?
I did not think, cant they be fetched? said Gillian, startled.
It is not far, said Adeline, pitying her. One of the maids
My dear Ada! exclaimed Aunt Jane. You know that Fanny cannot go out at night with her throat, and I never will send out those young girls on any account.
Cant I go? said Gillian desperately.
Are not you a young girl? I must go myself.
And go she did at a quarter to eight, and brought home the children, looking much injured. Gillian went upstairs with them, and there was an outburst.
It was horrid to be fetched home so soon, just as there was a chance of something nice; when all the tiresome big ones had gone to dress, and we could have had some real fun, said Valetta.
Real fun! Real sense! said Fergus.
But what had you been about all this time?
Why, their sisters and a man that was there would come and drink tea in the nursery, where nobody wanted them, and make us play their play.
Wasnt that nice? You are always crying out for Harry and me to come and play with you.
Oh, it wasnt like that, said Val, you play with us, and they only pretended, and played with each other. It wasnt nice.
Clem said it wasforking, said Fergus.
No, spooning, said Val. The dish ran after the spoon, you know.
Well, but you havent told me about the schools, said Gillian, in elder sisterly propriety, thinking the subject had better be abandoned.
Jolly, jolly, scrumptious! cried Fergus.
Oh! Fergus, mamma doesnt like slang words. Jasper doesnt say them.
Not at home, but men say what they like at school, and the bus was scrumptious and splendiferous!
Im sure it wasnt, said Valetta; I cant bear being boxed up with horrid rude boys.
Because you are only a girl!
Now, Gill, they shot with
Val, if you tell
Telling Gill isnt telling. Is it, Gill?
She assented.
They did, Gill. They shot at us with pea-shooters, sighed the girl.
Oh! it was jolly, jolly, jolly! cried the boy. Stebbing hit the girl who made the sour face on her cheeks, and they all squealed, and the cad looked in and tried to jaw us.
But that dreadful boy shot right into his mouth, said Val, while Fergus went into an ecstasy of laughter. Wasnt it a shame, Gill?
Indeed it was said Gillian. Such ungentlemanly boys ought not to be allowed in the omnibus.
Girls shouldnt be allowed in the bus, they are so stupid, said Fergus. That oneas cross as old Halfpennywho was she, Val?
Emma Norton! Up in the highest form!
Well, she is a prig, and a tell-tale-tit besides; only Stebbing said if she did, her junior would catch it.
What a dreadful bully he must be! exclaimed Gillian.
Ill tell you what, said Fergus, in a tone of profound admiration, no one can hold a candle to him at batting! He snowballed all the Kennel choir into fits, and he can brosier old Tillys stall, and go on just the same.
What a greedy boy! exclaimed Val.
Disgusting, added Gillian.
Youre girls, responded Fergus, lengthening the syllable with infinite contempt; but Valetta had spirit enough to reply, Much better be a girl than rude and greedy.
Exactly, said Gillian; it is only little silly boys who think such things fine. Claude doesnt, nor Harry, nor Japs.
You know nothing about it, said Fergus.
Well, but youve never told me about schoolhow you are placed, and whom you are under.
Oh! Im in middle form, under Miss Edgar. Disgusting! Its only the third form that go up to Smiler. She knows it is no use to try to take Stebbing and Burfield.
And, Gill, added Val, Im in second class too, and I took three places for knowing where Teheran was, and got above Kitty Varley and a girl there two years older than I am, and her name is Maura.
Maura, how very odd! I never heard of any one called Maura but one of the Whites, said Gillian. What was her surname?
This Valetta could not tell, and at the moment Mrs. Mount came up with intent to brush Miss Valettas hair, and to expedite the going to bed.
Gillian, not very happy about the revelations she had heard, went downstairs, and found her younger aunt alone, Miss Mohun having been summoned to a conference with one of her clients in the parish room. In her absence Gillian always felt more free and communicative, and she had soon told whatever she did not feel as a sort of confidence, including Valettas derivation of spooning, and when Miss Mohun returned it was repeated to her.
Yes, was her comment, childrens play is a convenient cover to the present form of flirtation. No doubt Bee Varley and Mr. Marlowe believe themselves to have been most good-natured.