They were mostly brown-eyed, well-grown creatures. One boy, at the further corner, had a cast in his eye, and was thin and wizen-looking, and when he saw her eyes on him, he made up an ugly face, which he got rid of like a flash of lightning before any one else could see it, but her heart sank all the more for it. He must be Wilfred, the teaser.
Aunt Lilias was a tall, slender woman, dressed in some kind of soft grey, with a little carnation colour at her throat, and a pretty lace cap on her still rich, abundant, dark brown hair, where diligent search could only detect a very few white threads. Her complexion was always of a soft, paly, brunette tint, and though her cheeks showed signs that she was not young, her dark, soft, long-lashed eyes and sweet-looking lips made her face full of life and freshness; and the figure and long slender hands had the kind of grace that some people call willowy, but which is perhaps more like the general air of a young birch tree, or, as Hal had once said, Early pointed architecture reminded him of his mother.
The little one was getting restless, and two of the boys began filliping crumbs at one another.
Wilfred! Fergus! said the mother quite low and gently; but they stopped directly. We will say grace, she said, lifting the little one down. Now, Primrose.
Every one stood up, to Dolores surprise, a pair of little fat hands were put together, a little clear voice said a few words of thanksgiving perfectly pronounced.
You may go, if you like, she said. Hal, take care of Prim.
Up jumped the two boys and a sprite of a girl, who took the hand of little Primrose, a beautiful little maiden with rich chestnut wavy curls. They all paused at the door, the boys making a salute, the girls a little curtsey. Primroses was as pretty a little bob as ever was seen.
I am glad you keep that custom up, said Mr. Mohun.
Jasper had been brought up to it, and wished it to be the habit among us; and I find it a great protection against bouncing and rudeness.
But Dollys blood boiled at such stupid, antiquated, military nonsense. She would never give in to it, if they made her live on bread and water!
The uncle and aunt, who perhaps had lengthened out their breakfast from politeness to her, had finished when she had, and the pony-chaise came to the door, in which Hal was to drive Uncle William to the station. Everybody flocked to the door to bid him good-bye, and then Aunt Lilias stooped down to ask Dolores if she were quite rested and felt quite well, Mysie standing anxiously by as if she felt her a great charge.
Quite well, quite rested, thank you, the girl answered in her stiff, shy way.
There is half an hour to spare before Miss Vincent comes. The children generally spend it in feeding the creatures. I am not going to give a holiday, because I think people get more pleasantly acquainted over something, than over nothing, to do, but you need not begin lessons to-day if you had rather settle your thoughts and write your letters.
I had rather begin at once, said Dolores, who thought she would now establish her pre-eminence at the cost of any amount of jealousy.
Very well, then, when you hear the gong
Mamma, said Mysie solemnly, after long waiting, she says she had rather not be called out of her name.
I thought you had been called Dolly, my dear.
Yes, at home, with a strong emphasis.
Well, my dear, I dare say it may be better to keep to your proper name at once. We wont take liberties with it, till you feel as if you could call this home, said Lady Merrifield, looking as if she would have kissed her niece on the slightest encouragement, but no one ever looked less kissable than Dolores Mohun at that moment. Was it not cruel and hypocritical to talk of this tiresome multitude as ever making home?
CHAPTER IV. TURNED IN AMONG THEM
Do you like pets? asked Mysie eagerly, as her mother left the two girls together.
I never had any, said Dolores.
Oh how dreadful! Why, old Cockie, and Aga and Begum, the two oldest pussies, have been everywhere with us. And, besides, theres Basto, the big Pyrenean dog, and,oh, here comes little Quiz, mammas little MalteseQuiz, Quiz.
Dolores started, she did not like either dogs or cats; and the little spun-glass looking dog smelt about her.
I must go and feed my guinea-pig, said Mysie; wont you come? Here are some over shoes and Poncho.
Dolores was afraid Poncho was another beast, but it turned out to be a sort of cape, and she discovered that all the cloaks and most of the sticks had names of their own. She was afraid to be left standing on the steps alone lest any amount of animals or boys should fall on her there, so she consented to accompany Mysie, who shuffled along in a pair of overshoes vastly too big for her, since she had put her cousin into the well-fitting ones. She chattered all the way.
We do like this place so. It is the nicest we have ever been in. All that is wanting is that papa will buy it, and then we shall never go away again.
It was a pleasant place, though not grand; a homely-looking, roomy, red-brick house, covered with creepersthe Virginian one with its leaves just beginning to be painted. There was a bright sunny garden full of flowers in front, and then a paddock, with cows belonging to a farmer, Mysie said. It was her ambition to have them of their own when papa came home, when all good things were to happen. Behind there were large stable-yards and offices, too large for Lady Merrifields one horse and one pony, and thus available for the childrens menagerie of rabbits, guinea-pigs, magpie, and the like. On the way Mysie was only too happy to explain the family as she called it, when she had recovered from her astonishment that Dolores, always living in England, could not count up her cousins. Why they always had been shown their photographs on a Sunday evening after the Bible pictures, and even little Primrose knew all the likeness, even of those she had never seen.
The catalogue of names and ages followed.
Dolores heard it with a feeling of bewilderment, and a sense that one Maude was worth all the eight put together with whom she was called on to be familiar. She found herself standing in a court, rather grass-grown, where Gillian, with little Primrose by her side, was flinging peas to a number of pigeons, grey, white, and brown, who fluttered round her. Valetta and Fergus were on the granary steps, throwing meal and sop mixed together to a host of cackling, struggling fowls, who tried to leap over each others backs. Wilfred seemed busy at some hutches where some rabbits twitched their noses at cabbage leaves. Mysie proceeded to minister to some black and rust-coloured guinea-pigs, which Dolores thought very ugly, uninteresting, and odorous.
Then there were dogs jumping about everywhere, and cats and kittens parading before peoples feet, so that Dolores felt as if she had been turned into a den of wild beasts, and resolved against ever again venturing into the court at feeding-time. A big bell gathered all the children up together into a race to the house. There was another scurry to change shoes and wash hands, and then Mysie conducted her cousin into a large, cheerful, wainscoted room on the ground floor, with deep windows, and numerous little, solid-looking deal tables. There were Lady Merrifield and a young lady in spectacles, to whom Dolores was presented as your new pupil, and every one sat down at one of the little tables, on which there were Bibles and Prayer-books.
Lady Merrifield took the two youngest on each side of her. Dolores found a table ready for her with the books. A passage in the New Testament was given out and read verse by verse, to the end of the subject, which was the Parable of the Tares, and then Lady Merrifield gave a short lesson on it, asking questions, and causing references to be found, according to a book of notes, she had ready at hand.
Lady Merrifield took the two youngest on each side of her. Dolores found a table ready for her with the books. A passage in the New Testament was given out and read verse by verse, to the end of the subject, which was the Parable of the Tares, and then Lady Merrifield gave a short lesson on it, asking questions, and causing references to be found, according to a book of notes, she had ready at hand.
Just like a charity school, thought Dolores, when she was able to glance at the time-table, and saw that two days in the week there was Old Testament, two days New, one day Catechism, one day Prayer-book. Only half an hour was thus appropriated, but to her mind it was an old-fashioned waste of time, and very tiresome.
Then came a ring at the door-bell. Mr. Poulter, she heard, and to her amazement, she found that Gillian and Mysie, as well as their brothers, had Latin lessons in the dining-room with the curate. The two girls and Fergus only went to him every other day, Wilfred every day, as Gillian was learning Greek and mathematics. What was Dolores to do?
Have you done any Latin, my dear? asked her aunt.
Not yet. Father wished to be quite convinced that the professor was a good scholar, said Dolores.
Very well. We will wait a little, said Aunt Lilias, and Dolores indignantly thought that she was amused.
Mysie was sent off to her music in the drawing-room, whither her mother followed with Primroses little lessons, leaving the schoolroom piano to Valetta, and Fergus to write copies and to do sums, while Miss Vincent examined the new-comer, which she did by giving her some questions to answer in writing, and some French and German to translate and parse also in writing.
The music was inconvenient to a girl who had always prepared her work alone. She could do the language work easily, but the questions teased her. They seemed to her of no use, and quite out of her beat. No dates, none of the subject she had specially got up. Why, if Miss Vincent did not know that people were not to be expected to answer stupid questions about history quite out of their own line, that was her fault.
She did what she knew, and then sat biting the top of her pen till her aunt came back, and there was a change in occupations all round, resulting in her having to read French aloud, which she knew she did well; but it was provoking to find that Gillian read quite as well, and knew a word at which she had made a shot, and a wrong one.
She heard the observation pass between her aunt and the governess, Languages fair, but she seems to have very little general information.
General information, indeed! Just as if she who had lived in London, gone to lectures, and travelled on the Continent, must not know more than these children cast up and down in a soldiers life; and as if her Fraulein, with all her diplomas, must not be far superior to a mere little daily governess, and a mother! It was all for the sake of depreciating her.
At twelve oclock, to her further indignation, she found there was to be an hour of reading aloud and of needlework-actual plain needlework. The three girls were making under-garments for themselves; and on Dolores proving to have no work of any sort, her aunt sent Gillian to the drawer, and produced a childs pinafore, which she was desired to hem. Each, however, had a quarter of an hours reading aloud of history to do in turn, all from one big book, a history of Rome, and there was a map hung up over the black board, where they were in turn to point to the places mentioned. Before Gillian began reading, the date, and something about the former lesson was required to be told by the children, and it came quite readily, Valetta especially declaring that she did love Pyrrhus, which the others seemed to think very bad taste.
Dolores knew nothing about ancient history, and thought it foolish to study anything that did not tell in a Cambridge examination; but she supposed they knew no better down there; and when it came to her turn to read, she mangled the names so, that Val burst out laughing when she spoke of A-pious-Claudius. Lady Merrifield hushed this at once, and the girl read in a bewildered manner, and as one affronted. She saw he aunt looking at her piece of hemming, which, to say the truth, would not have done credit to Primrose, and the recollection came across her of all the oppressed orphans who had been made household drudges, so that her reading did not become more intelligible. As the clock struck one, a warning gong was heard; everybody jumped up, the work was folded away, and with the obeisance at the door, Gillian and Val ran away.
Mysie stayed a little longer, it being her turn to tidy the room; and Lady Merrifield said to Dolores
I must teach you how to hold your needle tomorrow, my dear.
I hate work, responded Dolores.
Val does not like it, said her aunt; nor indeed did I at your age; but one cannot be an independent woman without being able to take care of ones own clothes, so I resolved that these children should learn better than I did. Do you like a take a run with Mysie before dinner? Or there is the amusing shelf. Books may be taken out after one oclock, and they must be put back at eight, or they are confiscated for the ensuing day, she added, pointing to a paper below where this sentence was written.
Dolores was still rather tired, and more inclined to make friends with the books than with the cousins. There were fewer than she expected, and nothing like so many absolute stories as she was used to reading with Maude Sefton.
Those are such grown-up books, she said to Mysie, who came to assist her choice, and pointed to the upper shelves.
Oh, but grown-up books are nicest! returned Mysie; at least, when they dont begin being stupid and marrying too soon. They must do it at last to get out of the story, and its nicer than dying, but they can have lots of nice adventures first. But here are the Feats on the Fiords and the Crofton Boys and Water Babies, and all the volumes of Aunt Judy, if you like the younger sort. Or the dear, dear Thorn Fortress; thats good for young and old.
Havent you any books of your own?
Oh yes; this Thorn Fortress is Vals, and A York and a Lancaster Rose is mine, but whenever any one gives us a book, if it is not a weeny little gem like Gills Christian Year, or my Little Pillow, or Vals Children in the Wood, we bring it to mother, and if it is nice, we keep it here, for every one to read. If it is just rather silly, and stupid, we may read it once, and then she keeps it; and if it is very silly indeed, she puts it out of the way.
Mysie said it as if it had been killing an animal.
Have you got many books?
Yes; but I dont mean to have them knocked about by all the boys, nor put out of the way neither.
Mamma said we were to be all like sisters, said Mysie, with rather a craving for the new books; but Dolores tossed up her head and said
We cant be. Its nonsense to say so.
To her surprise, Mysie turned round to Lady Merrifield, who was looking at some exercises that Miss Vincent had laid before her.
Mamma, she said, is it fair that Dolores should read our books, if she wont give you up hers to look over, and be like ours?
Mysie, said Lady Merrifield, you cant expect Dolores to like all our home plans till she is used to them. No, my dear, you need not be afraid; you shall keep your books in your own room, and nobody shall meddle with them. I am sure your cousins would not wish to be so unkind as to deprive you of the use of theirs.
By the time Dolores had made up her mind to take Tom Brown, it was time for the general flight to prepare for dinner, and she found her room made to look very pleasant, and almost homelike, for her books and little knickknacks had been put out, not quite as she preferred, but still so as to make the place seem like her own. She was pleased enough to be quite gracious to Mysie and Val who came to visit her, and to offer to let them read any of her books; when they both thanked her and said