Well, Curlylocks, how much mischief did you do yesterday?
Id no spirits for mischief, she answered, with mock pitifulness, twinkling up her eyes, and rubbing them with her knuckles as if she were crying. You barbarous wretch, taking Phœbe to feast on strawberries and cream with Miss Charlecote, and leaving poor me to poke in that stupid drawing-room, with nothing to do but to count the scollops of mammas flounce!
It is your turn. Will Miss Fennimore kindly let you have a walk with me this evening?
And me, said Maria.
You, of course. May I come for them at five oclock?
I can hardly tell what to say about Maria. I do not like to disappoint her, but she knows that nothing displeases me so much as that ill-mannered habit of giggling, said Miss Fennimore, not without concern. Merciful as to Marias attainments, she was strict as to her manners, and was striving to teach her self-restraint enough to be unobtrusive.
Poor Marias eyes were glassy with tears, her chest heaved with sobs, and she broke out, O pray, Miss Fennimore, O pray! while all the others interceded for her; and Bertha, well knowing that it was all her fault, avoided the humiliation of a confession, by the apparent generosity of exclaiming, Take us both to-morrow instead, Robin.
Roberts journey was, however, fixed for that day, and on this plea, licence was given for the walk. Phœbe smiled congratulation, but Maria was slow in cheering up; and when, on returning to the schoolroom, the three sisters were left alone together for a few moments, she pressed up to Phœbes side, and said, Phœbe, Ive not said my prayers. Do you think anything will happen to me?
Her awfully mysterious tone set Bertha laughing. Yes, Maria, all the cows in the park will run at you, she was beginning, when the grave rebuke of Phœbes eyes cut her short.
How was it, my dear? asked Phœbe, tenderly fondling her sister.
I was so sleepy, and Bertha would blow soap-bubbles in her hands while we were washing, and then Miss Fennimore came, and Ive been naughty now, and I know I shall go on, and then Robin wont take me.
I will ask Miss Fennimore to let you go to your room, dearest, said Phœbe. You must not play again in dressing time, for theres nothing so sad as to miss our prayers. You are a good girl to care so much. Had you time for yours, Bertha?
Oh, plenty! with a toss of her curly head. I dont take ages about things, like Maria.
Prayers cannot be hurried, said Phœbe, looking distressed, and she was about to remind Bertha to whom she spoke in prayer, when the child cut her short by the exclamation, Nonsense, Maria, about being naughty. You know I always make you laugh when I please, and that has more to do with it than saying your prayers, I fancy.
Perhaps, said Phœbe, very sadly, if you had said yours more in earnest, my poor Bertha, you would either not have made Maria laugh, or would not have left her to bear all the blame.
Why do you call me poor? exclaimed Bertha, with a half-offended, half-diverted look.
Because I wish so much that you knew better, or that I could help you better, said Phœbe, gently.
There Miss Fennimore entered, displeased at the English sounds, and at finding them all, as she thought, loitering. Phœbe explained Marias omission, and Miss Fennimore allowed her five minutes in her own room, saying that this must not become a precedent, though she did not wish to oppress her conscience.
Berthas eyes glittered with a certain triumph, as she saw that Miss Fennimore was of her mind, and anticipated no consequences from the neglect, but only made the concession as to a superstition. Without disbelief, the child trained only to reason, and quick to detect fallacy, was blind to all that was not material. And how was the spiritual to be brought before her?
Phœbe might well sigh as she sat down to her abstract of Schlegels Lectures. If any one would but teach them, she thought; but there is no time at all, and I myself do not know half so much of those things as one of Miss Charlecotes lowest classes.
Phœbe was a little mistaken. An earnest mind taught how to learn, with access to the Bible and Prayer Book, could gain more from these fountain-heads than any external teaching could impart; and she could carry her difficulties to Robert. Still it was out of her power to assist her sisters. Surveillance and driving absolutely left no space free from Miss Fennimores requirements; and all that there was to train those young ones in faith, was the manner in which it lived and worked in her. Nor of this effect could she be conscious.
As to dreams or repinings, or even listening to her hopes and fears for her project of pleasure, they were excluded by the concentrated attention that Miss Fennimores system enforced. Time and capacity were so much on the stretch, that the habit of doing what she was doing, and nothing else, had become second nature to the docile and duteous girl; and she had become little sensible to interruptions; so she went on with her German, her Greek, and her algebra, scarcely hearing the repetitions of the lessons, or the counting as Miss Fennimore presided over Marias practice, a bit of drudgery detested by the governess, but necessarily persevered in, for Maria loved music, and had just voice and ear sufficient to render this single accomplishment not hopeless, but a certain want of power of sustained effort made her always break down at the moment she seemed to be doing best. Former governesses had lost patience, but Miss Fennimore had early given up the case, and never scolded her for her failures; she made her attempt less, and she was improving more, and shedding fewer tears than under any former dynasty. Even a stern dominion is better for the subjects than an uncertain and weak one; regularity gives a sense of reliance; and constant occupation leaves so little time for being naughty, that Bertha herself was getting into training, and on the present day her lessons were exemplary, always with a view to the promised walk with her brother, one of the greatest pleasures ever enjoyed by the denizens of the west wing.
Phœbes pleasure was less certain, and less dependent on her merits, yet it invigorated her efforts to do all she had to do with all her might, even into the statement of the pros and cons of customs and free-trade, which she was required to produce as her mornings exercise. In the midst, her ear detected the sound of wheels, and her heart throbbed in the conviction that it was Miss Charlecotes pony carriage; nay, she found her pen had indited Robin would be so glad, instead of revenue to the government, and while scratching the words out beyond all legibility, she blamed herself for betraying such want of self-command.
No summons came, no tidings, the wheels went away; her heart sank, and her spirit revolted against an unfeeling, unutterably wearisome captivity; but it was only a moments fluttering against the bars, the tears were driven back with the thought, After all, the decision is guided from Above. If I stay at home, it must be best for me. Let me try to be good! and she forced her mind back to her exports and her customs. It was such discipline as few girls could have exercised, but the conscientious effort was no small assistance in being resigned; and in the precious minutes granted in which to prepare herself for dinner, she found it the less hard task to part with her anticipations of delight and brace herself to quiet, contented duty.
The meal was beginning when, with a very wide expansion of the door, appeared a short, consequential-looking personage, of such plump, rounded proportions, that she seemed ready to burst out of her riding-habit, and of a broad, complacent visage, somewhat overblooming. It was Miss Fulmort, the eldest of the family, a young lady just past thirty, a very awful distance from the schoolroom party, to whom she nodded with good-natured condescension, saying: Ah! I thought I should find you at dinner; Im come for something to sustain nature. The riding party are determined to have me with them, and they wont wait for luncheon. Thank you, yes, a piece of mutton, if there were any under side. How it reminds me of old times. I used so to look forward to never seeing a loin of mutton again.
The meal was beginning when, with a very wide expansion of the door, appeared a short, consequential-looking personage, of such plump, rounded proportions, that she seemed ready to burst out of her riding-habit, and of a broad, complacent visage, somewhat overblooming. It was Miss Fulmort, the eldest of the family, a young lady just past thirty, a very awful distance from the schoolroom party, to whom she nodded with good-natured condescension, saying: Ah! I thought I should find you at dinner; Im come for something to sustain nature. The riding party are determined to have me with them, and they wont wait for luncheon. Thank you, yes, a piece of mutton, if there were any under side. How it reminds me of old times. I used so to look forward to never seeing a loin of mutton again.
As your chief ambition? said Miss Fennimore, who, governess as she was, could not help being a little satirical, especially when Berthas eyes twinkled responsively.
One does get so tired of mutton and rice-pudding, answered the less observant Miss Fulmort, who was but dimly conscious of any ones existence save her own, and could not have credited a governess laughing at her; but really this is not so bad, after all, for a change; and some pale ale. You dont mean that you exist without pale ale?
We all drink water by preference, said Miss Fennimore.
Indeed! Miss Watson, our finishing governess, never drank anything but claret, and she always had little pâtés, or fish, or something, because she said her appetite was to be consulted, she was so delicate. She was very thin, I know; and what a figure you have, Phœbe! I suppose that is water drinking. Bridger did say it would reduce me to leave off pale ale, but I cant get on without it, I get so horridly low. Dont you think thats a sign, Miss Fennimore?
I beg your pardon, a sign of what?
That one cant go on without it. Miss Charlecote said she thought it was all constitution whether one is stout or not, and that nothing made much difference, when I asked her about German wines.
Oh! Augusta, has Miss Charlecote been here this morning? exclaimed Phœbe.
Yes; she came at twelve oclock, and there was I actually pinned down to entertain her, for mamma was not come down. So I asked her about those light foreign wines, and whether they do really make one thinner; you know one always has them at her house.
Did mamma see her? asked poor Phœbe, anxiously.
Oh yes, she was bent upon it. It was something about you. Oh! she wants to take you to stay with her in that horrible hole of hers in the Cityvery odd of her. What do you advise me to do, Miss Fennimore? Do you think those foreign wines would bring me down a little, or that they would make me low and sinking?
Really, I have no experience on the subject! said Miss Fennimore, loftily.
What did mamma say? was poor Phœbes almost breathless question.
Oh! it makes no difference to mamma (Phœbes heart bounded); but Augusta went on: she always has her soda-water, you know; but of course I should take a hamper from Bass. I hate being unprovided.
But about my going to London? humbly murmured Phœbe.
What did she say? considered the elder sister, aloud. I dont know, Im sure. I was not attendingthe heat does make one so sleepybut I know we all wondered she should want you at your age. You know some people take a spoonful of vinegar to fine themselves down, and some of those wines are very acid, she continued, pressing on with her great subject of consultation.
If it be an object with you, Miss Fulmort, I should recommend the vinegar, said Miss Fennimore. There is nothing like doing a thing outright!
And, oh! how glorious it would be to see her taking it! whispered Bertha into Phœbes ear, unheard by Augusta, who, in her satisfied stolidity, was declaring, No, I could not undertake that. I am the worst person in the world for taking anything disagreeable.
And having completed her meal, which she had contrived to make out of the heart of the joint, leaving the others little but fat, she walked off to her ride, believing that she had done a gracious and condescending action in making conversation with her inferiors of the west wing.
Yet Augusta Fulmort might have been good for something, if her mind and her affections had not lain fallow ever since she escaped from a series of governesses who taught her self-indulgence by example.
I wonder what mamma said! exclaimed Phœbe, in her strong craving for sympathy in her suspense.
I am sorry the subject has been brought forward, if it is to unsettle you, Phœbe, said Miss Fennimore, not unkindly; I regret your being twice disappointed; but, if your mother should refer it to me, as I make no doubt she will, I should say that it would be a great pity to break up our course of studies.
It would only be for a little while, sighed Phœbe; and Miss Charlecote is to show me all the museums. I should see more with her than ever I shall when I am come out; and I should be with Robert.
I intended asking permission to take you through a systematic course of lectures and specimens when the family are next in town, said Miss Fennimore. Ordinary, desultory sight-seeing leaves few impressions; and though Miss Charlecote is a superior person, her mind is not of a sufficiently scientific turn to make her fully able to direct you. I shall trust to your good sense, Phœbe, for again submitting to defer the pleasure till it can be enhanced.
Good sense had a task imposed on it for which it was quite inadequate; but there was something else in Phœbe which could do the work better than her unconvinced reason. Even had she been sure of the expediency of being condemned to the schoolroom, no good sense would have brought that resolute smile, or driven back the dew in her eyes, or enabled her voice to say, with such sweet meekness, Very well, Miss Fennimore; I dare say it may be right.
Miss Fennimore was far more concerned than if the submission had been grudging. She debated with herself whether she should consider her resolution irrevocable.
Ten minutes were allowed after dinner in the parterre, and these could only be spent under the laurel hedge; the sun was far too hot everywhere else. Phœbe had here no lack of sympathy, but had to restrain Bertha, who, with angry gestures, was pronouncing the governess a horrid cross-patch, and declaring that no girls ever were used as they were; while Maria observed, that if Phœbe went to London, she must go too.
We shall all go some day, said Phœbe, cheerfully, and we shall enjoy it all the more if we are good now. Never mind, Bertha, we shall have some nice walks.
Yes, all bothered with botany, muttered Bertha.
I thought, at least, you would be glad of me, said Phœbe, smiling; you who stay at home.
To be sure, I am, said Bertha; but it is such a shame! I shall tell Robin, and hell say so too. I shall tell him you nearly cried!
Dont vex Robin, said Phœbe. When you go out, you should set yourself to tell him pleasant things.
So Im to tell him you wouldnt go on any account. You like your political economy much too well!
Suppose you say nothing about it, said Phœbe. Make yourself merry with him. Thats what youve got to do. He takes you out to entertain you, not to worry about grievances.
Do you never talk about grievances? asked Bertha, twinkling up her eyes.