If you let yourself be led by these horrid cads
He is no such thing! He is the crack bat of Edgars
A boy is a cad who cant behave himself to a girl because she is poor. I really think the apology to me was the worst part or the matter. He only treats people well when he sees they can take care of themselves.
Ill tell him about Captain White, said Fergus, a little abashed.
Yes. And I will get the aunts to call on Mrs. White, and that may help them to a better level among these vulgar folk.
But you wont said Fergus, with an expressive pause.
I wont get you into trouble, for I think you are sorry you treated one of our own in such a manner.
I wouldnt, indeed, if I had known.
I shall only explain that I have found out whom Maura belongs to. I should go and see them at once, only I must make Val find out where she lives.
So Gillian returned home, communicating the intelligence with some excitement that she had discovered that Valettas schoolmate, Maura White, was none other than the daughter of her fathers old fellow-soldier, whose death shocked her greatly, and she requested to go and call on Mrs. White as soon as she could learn her abode.
However, it seemed to be impossible that any one should live in Rockstone unknown to Aunt Jane.
White? she said. It cant be the Whites down by Cliffside. No; theres a father there, though he generally only comes down for Sunday.
I am sure there are some Whites on the Library list, said Miss Ada.
Oh yes; but she washes! I know who they must be. I know in Bellevue there are some; but they go to the Kennel Church. Didnt you come home, Ada, from that function you went to with Florence, raving about the handsome youth in the choir?
Oh yes, we thought it such an uncommon, foreign face, and he looked quite inspired when he was singing his solo.
Yes; I found out that his name was White, a clerk or something in the marble works, and that he had a mother and sister living at Bellevue. I did see the sister when I went to get the marble girls into the G.F.S., but she said something foolish about her mother not liking it.
Yes; nobody under the St. Kenelm influence ever will come into the G.F.S.
But what is she doing? asked Gillian. Do you mean Kalliope?
I suppose I do. I saw a rather nice-looking young woman in the department where they make Florentine mosaic, and I believe they said she was Miss White, but she cut me off very short with her mother, so I had no more to do with her.
I am sure mamma would wish me to call on Mrs. White, said Gillian.
Theres no reason against it, said Aunt Jane. I will go with you the first day I can.
When would that be, wondered Gillian. She told Valetta to talk to Maura and learn the name of the house; and this was ascertained to be 3 Ivinghoe Terrace, Bellevue Road, but Val had very little opportunity of cultivating the acquaintance of town girls, who did not stay to dinner, as she had to go home immediately after school, under Emma Nortons escort, and perhaps she was not very ardent in the cause, for Kitty Varley and her other friends did not like the child, and she was more swayed by them than perhaps she liked to confess to her sister.
Each morning at breakfast Gillian hoped that Aunt Jane would lay out her day so as to call on Mrs. White; but first there was the working party, then came the mothers meeting, followed by afternoon tea at Mrs. Hablots for some parish council. On the third day, which might have been clear, a miserable creature, as Gillian mentally called her, wrote to beg the Misses Mohun to bring themselves and her niece to make up a lawn-tennis set, since some one had failed. Gillian vainly protested that she did not care about lawn tennis, and could not play unless Jasper was her partner; and Aunt Jane so far sided with her as to say it was very inconvenient, and on such short notice they ought not to be expected. But Aunt Ada clearly wanted to go; and so they went. It was a beautiful place, but Gillian could not enjoy herself, partly because she knew so few of the people, but more because she was vexed and displeased about the Whites. She played very badly; but Aunt Jane, when pressed into the service, skipped about with her little light figure and proved herself such a splendid player, doing it so entirely con amore, that Gillian could not but say to herself, She was bent on going; it was all humbug her pretending to want to refuse.
That afternoons dissipation had made it needful to do double work the next day, and Gillian was again disappointed. Then came Saturday, when Miss Mohun was never available, nor was she on Monday; and when it appeared that she had to go to a meeting at the Cathedral town on Tuesday, Gillian grew desperate, and at her tete-a-tete meal with Aunt Ada, related the whole history of the Whites, and her great desire to show kindness to her fathers old brother-officers family, and how much she was disappointed.
Miss Adeline was touched, and indeed, fond as she was of her sister, she could not help being flattered by Gillians preference and confidence.
Well, my deal, this is a nice day, not too hot or too cold; I do not see why I should not walk down with you and call. If I find it too far, we can take a cab to go back.
Oh, thank you, Aunt Ada; it is very very kind of you, and there is no knowing when Aunt Jane may be able to go. I dont like to close up my Indian letter till I can say I have seen them.
Gillian fidgeted a good deal lest, before her aunts postprandial repose was over, visitors should come and put a stop to everything, and she looked ready to cut the throat of a poor lady in a mushroom hat, who came up to leave a message for Miss Mohun about a possible situation for one of her class of boys.
However, at last they started, Kunz and all, Miss Adeline quite infected by Gillians excitement.
So your father and mother were very fond of them.
Papa thought very highly of him, and was very sorry he had to return, said Gillian.
And she was a beautiful Greek.
Gillian began to be quite afraid of what she might have said.
I dont think she is more than half Greek, she said. I believe her mother was a Gorfiote, but her father was English or Irish. I believe he kept a shop in Malta.
Quite a mixture of nationalities then, and no wonder she is beautiful. That youth had a very striking profile; it quite reminded me of a gem as I saw it against the dark pillar.
I did not say she was very beautiful now, said Gillian, feeling a qualm as she recollected the Queen of the White Ants, and rather oddly divided between truthfulness, fear of alarming her aunt into turning back, and desire of giving her a little preparation.
Ah! those southern beauties soon go on. Some one told me that Lord Byrons Maid of Athens, whose portrait I used to think the loveliest thing in the world, became a great stout woman, but was quite a mother to all the young Englishmen about. I remember I used to try to hold my head and keep my eyelids down like the engraving in an old book that had been my mothers.
Oh! I think I have seen it at Beechcroft, said Gillian, very much amused, for she now perceived whence arose Aunt Adas peculiar turn of the head and droop of the eyelashes, and how the conscious affectation of childhood had become unconsciously crystallised.
She grew more and more anxious as they found some difficulty in making out Ivinghoe Terrace, and found it at last to be a row of rather dilapidated little houses, apparently built of lath and stucco, and of that peculiar meanness only attained by the modern suburb. Aunt Ada evidently did not like it at all, and owned herself almost ready to turn back, being sure that Valetta must have made some mistake. Gillian repeated that she had always said the Whites were very poor, but she began to feel that her impatience had misled her, and that she would have been better off with the aunt who was used to such places, and whose trim browns and crimsons were always appropriate everywhere, rather than this dainty figure in delicate hues that looked only fit for the Esplanade or the kettledrum, and who was becoming seriously uneasy, as Kunz, in his fresh snowiness, was disposed to make researches among vulgar remains of crabs and hakes, and was with difficulty restrained from disputing them with a very ignoble and spiteful yellow cur of low degree.
No. 3, with its blistered wall and rusty rail, was attained, Kunz was brought within the enclosure, and Gillian knocked as sharply and fast as she could, in the fear that her aunt might yet turn about and escape.
The door was opened with a rapidity that gave the impression that they had been watched, but it was by a very untidy-looking small maid, and the parlour into which they were turned had most manifestly been lately used as the family dining-room, and was redolent of a mixture of onion, cabbage, and other indescribable odours.
Nobody was there, except a black and white cat, who showed symptoms of flying at Kunz, but thought better of it, and escaped by the window, which fortunately was open, though the little maid would have shut it, but for Miss Adelines gasping and peremptory entreaty to the contrary. She sat on the faded sofa, looking as if she just existed by the help of her fan and scent-bottle, and when Gillian directed her attention to the case of clasps and medals and the photograph of the fine-looking officer, she could only sigh out, Oh, my dear!
There was a certain air of taste in the arrangement of the few chimney-piece ornaments, and Gillian was pleased to see the two large photographs of her father and mother which Captain White had so much valued as parting gifts. A few drawings reminded her of the School of Art at Belfast, and there was a vase of wild flowers and ferns prettily arranged, but otherwise everything was wretchedly faded and dreary.
Then came the opening of the door, and into the room rolled, rather than advanced, something of stupendous breadth, which almost took Gillians breath away, as she durst not look to see the effect on her aunt. If the Queen of the White Ants had been stout before, what was she now? Whatever her appearance had been in the days of comparative prosperity, with a husband to keep her up to the mark, and a desire to rank with the officers wives, she had let everything go in widowhood, poverty, and neglect; and as she stood panting in her old shiny black alpaca, the only thing Gillian recalled about her like old times was the black lace veil thrown mantilla fashion over her head; but now it was over a widows cap, and a great deal rustier than of old. Of the lovely foreigner nothing else remained except the dark eyes, and that sort of pasty sallow whiteness that looks at if for generations past cold water and fresh air had been unknown. There was no accent more interesting in her voice than a soupcon of her Irish father as she began, I am sorry to have kept the lady so long waiting. Was it about the girls character that you came?
Oh no, Mrs. White, interrupted Gillian, her shyness overpowered by the necessity of throwing herself into the breach. Dont you remember me? I am Gillian Merrifield, and this is my aunt, Miss Adeline Mohun.
The puffy features lighted up into warmth. Little Miss Gillian! And I am proud to see you! My little Maura did tell me that Miss Valetta was in her class at the High School; but I thought there was no one now who would come near the poor widow. And is your dear mamma here, Miss Gillian, and are she and your papa quite well?
Gillian could hardly believe in such dense remoteness that her fathers accident should be unknown, but she explained all, and met with abundant sympathy, the dark eyes filled with tears, and the voice broke into sobs, as Mrs. White declared that Sir Jasper and Lady Merrifield had been the best friends she ever had in her life.
But oh! that the handkerchief had been less grimy with which she mopped her eyes, as she spoke of the happy days that were gone! Gillian saw that poor Aunt Ada was in an agony to get away, and hurried out her questions for fear of being stopped. How was Kalliopewas she at home?
Oh no, poor Kally, she is the best girl in the world. I always say that, with all my sorrows, no one ever was more blest in their children than poor little me. Richard, my eldest, is in a lawyers office at Leeds. Kally is employed in the art department, just as a compliment to her relation, Mr. White. Quite genteel, superior work, though I must say he does not do as much for us as he might. Such a youth as my Alexis now was surely worthy of the position of a gentleman.
The good lady was quite disposed to talk; but there was no making out, through her cloud of confused complaints, what her son and daughter were actually doing; and Aunt Ada, while preserving her courtesy, was very anxious to be gone, and rose to take leave at the first moment possible, though after she was on her feet Mrs. White detained her for some time with apologies about not returning her visit. She was in such weak health, so unequal to walking up the cliff, that she was sure Miss Mohun would excuse her, though Alexis and Kally would be perfectly delighted to hear of Miss Gillians kindness.
Gillian had not made out half what she wanted to know, nor effected any arrangement for seeing Kalliope, when she found herself out in the street, and her aunt panting with relief. My dear, that woman! You dont mean that your mother was fond of her.
I never said mamma was fond of her.
My dear, excuse me. It was the only reason for letting you drag me here. I was almost stifled. What a night I shall have!
I am very sorry, Aunt Ada, but, indeed, I never said that mamma was fond of her, only that papa thought very highly of her husband, and wished us to be kind to her.
Well, you gave me that impression, whether you wished it or not! Such a hole; and Im sure she drinks gin!
Oh no, aunt!
I cant be mistaken! I really was afraid she was going to kiss you!
I do wish I could have made out about Alexis and Kalliope.
Oh, my dear, just working like all the lot, though she shuffled about it. I see what they are like, and the less you see of them the better. I declare I am more tired than if I had walked a mile. How am I ever to get up the hill again?
I am sorry, aunt, said Gillian. Will you take my arm? Perhaps we may meet Kalliope, if the marble people come out at four or five. Whats that bell? as a little tinkle was heard.
Thats St. Kenelms! Oh! you would like to go there, and it would rest me; only theres Kunz.
I should like to see it very much, said Gillian.
Well, said Aunt Ada, who certainly seemed to have something of the cats away feeling about her, and, moreover, trusted to avoid meeting Kalliope. Just round the corner here is Mrs. Webbs, who used to live with us before she married, Kunz will be happy with her. Wont he, my doggie, like to go and see his old Jessie?
So Kunz was disposed of with a very pleasant, neat-looking woman, who begged Miss Adeline to come and have some tea after the service.
It was really a beautiful little churcha little gem was exactly the term that suggested itselfvery ornate, and the chief lack being of repose, for there seemed not an inch devoid of colour or carving. There was a choir of boys in short surplices and blue cassocks, and a very musical service, in the course of which it was discovered to be the Feast of St. Remigius, for after the Lesson a short discourse was given on the Conversion of Clovis, not forgetting the sacred ampulla.
There were about five ladies present and six old women, belonging to a home maintained by Lady Flight. The young priest, her son, had a beautiful voice, and Gillian enjoyed all very much, and thought the St. Andrews people very hard and unjust; but all this went out of her head in the porch, for while Lady Flight was greeting Miss Mohun with empressement, and inviting her to come in to tea, Gillian had seen a young woman who had come in late and had been kneeling behind them.