CHAPTER TEN.
AMBITIONS!
Although Fraulein had charge over the girls' education, Mr Asplinreserved to himself the right of superintending their studies anddictating their particular direction. He was so accustomed to trainingboys for a definite end that he had no patience with the ordinaryaimless routine of a girl's school course, and in the case of hisdaughters had carefully provided for their different abilities andtastes. Esther was a born student, a clear-headed, hard-thinking girl,who took a delight in wrestling with Latin verbs and in solving problemsin Euclid, while she had little or no artistic faculty. He put herthrough much the same course as his own boys, gave her half an hour'sprivate lesson on unoccupied afternoons, and cut down the two hours'practising on the piano to a bare thirty minutes. Esther had pleaded togive up music altogether, on the ground that she had neither love norskill for this accomplishment, but to this the vicar would not agree.
"You have already spent much time over it, and have passed the worst ofthe drudgery; it would be folly to lose all you have learnt," he said."You may not wish to perform in public, but there are many other ways inwhich your music may be useful. In time to come you would be sorry ifyou could not read an accompaniment to a song, play bright airs to amusechildren, or hymn tunes to help in a service. Half an hour a day willkeep up what you have learned, and so much time you must manage tospare."
With Mellicent the case was almost exactly opposite. It was a waste oftime trying to teach her mathematics, she had not sufficient brain powerto grasp them, and if she succeeded in learning a proposition by heartlike a parrot, it was only to collapse into helpless tears andprotestations when the letters were altered, and, as it seemed to her,the whole argument changed thereby.
Fraulein protested that it was impossible to teach Mellicent to reason;but the vicar was loath to give up his pet theory that girls shouldreceive the same hard mental training as their brothers. He declaredthat if the girl were weak in this direction, it was all the morenecessary that she should be trained, and volunteered to take her inhand for half an hour daily, to see what could be done. Frauleinaccepted this offer with a chuckle of satisfaction, and the vicar wenton with the lessons several weeks, patiently plodding over the sameground without making the least impression on poor Mellicent's brain,until there came one happy never-to-be-forgotten morning when Algebraand Euclid went spinning up to the ceiling, and he jumped from the tablewith a roar of helpless laughter.
"Oh, baby! baby! this is past all bearing! We might try for a century,and never get any further. I cannot waste any more time." Then, seeingthe large tears gathering, he framed the pretty face in his hands, andlooked at it with a tender smile. "Never mind, darling! there arebetter things in this world than being clever and learned. You will beour little house-daughter; help mother with her work, and play and singto father when he is tired in the evening. Work hard at your music,learn how to manage a house, to sew and mend and cook, and you will havenothing to regret. A woman who can make a home, has done more than manyscholars."
So it came to pass that Mellicent added the violin to heraccomplishments, and was despatched to her own room to practiseexercises, while her elder sister wrestled with problems and equations.
When Peggy Saville arrived, here was a fresh problem, for Frauleinreported that the good child could not add five and six together withouttapping them over on her finger; was as ignorant of geography as alittle heathen, and had so little ear for music that she could not sing"Rule Britannia" without branching off into "God save the Queen." Butwhen it came to poetry!--Fraulein held up her hands in admiration. Itwas absolutely no effort to that child to remember, her eyes seemed toflash down the page, and the lines were her own, and as she repeatedthem her face shone, and her voice thrilled with such passionate delightthat Esther and Mellicent had been known to shed tears at the sound ofwords which had fallen dead and lifeless from their own lips. And atcomposition, how original she was! What a relief it was to find sogreat a contrast to other children! When it was the life of a great manwhich should be written, Esther and Mellicent began their essays asninety-nine out of a hundred schoolgirls would do, with a flat andobvious statement of birth, birthplace, and parentage; but Peggydisdained such commonplace methods, and dashed headlong into the heartof her subject with a high-flown sentiment, or a stirring assertionwhich at once arrested the reader's interest. And it was the same withwhatever she wrote; she had the power of investing the dullest subjectwith charm and brightness. Fraulein could not say too much of Peggy'spowers in this direction, and the vicar's eye brightened as he listened.He asked eagerly to be allowed to see the girl's manuscript book, andsummoned his wife from pastry-making in the kitchen to hear the three orfour essays which it contained.
"What do you think of those for a girl of fourteen? There's a pupil foryou! If she were only a boy! Such dash--such spirit--such a gift ofwords! Do you notice her adjectives? Exaggerated, no doubt, andover-abundant, but so apt, so true, so strong! That child can write:she has the gift. She ought to turn out an author of no mean rank."
"Oh, dear me! I hope not. I hope she will marry a nice, kind man whowill be good to her, and have too much to do looking after her childrento waste her time writing stories," cried Mrs Asplin, who adored a goodnovel when she could get hold of one, but harboured a prejudice againstall women-authors as strong-minded creatures, who lived in lodgings, andsported short hair, inky fingers, and a pen behind the ear. MariquitaSaville was surely destined for a happier fate. "When a woman can liveher _own_ romance, why need she trouble her head about inventingothers?"
Her husband looked at her with a quizzical smile.
"Even the happiest life is not all romance, dear. It sometimes seemsunbearably prosaic, and then it is a relief to lose oneself in fiction.You can't deny that! I seem to have a remembrance of seeing someone Iknow seated in a big chair before this very fire devouring a novel and aNewton pippin together on more Saturday afternoons than I could number."
"Tuts!" said his wife, and blushed a rosy red, which made her lookridiculously young and pretty. Saturday afternoon was her holiday-timeof the week, and she had not yet outgrown her schoolgirl love of eatingapples as an accompaniment to an interesting book; but how aggravatingto be reminded of her weakness just at this moment of all others! "Whatan inconvenient memory you have!" she said complainingly. "Can't a poorbody indulge in a little innocent recreation without having it broughtup against her in argument ever afterwards? And I thought we weretalking about Peggy! What is at the bottom of this excitement? I knowyou have some plan in your head."
"I mean to see that she reads good books, and only books that will help,and not hinder, her progress. The rest will come in time. She mustlearn before she can teach, have some experience of her own before shecan imagine the experiences of others; but writing is Peggy's gift, andshe has been put in my charge. I must try to give her the righttraining."
From that time forward Mr Asplin studied Peggy with a special interest,and a few evenings later a conversation took place among the youngpeople which confirmed him in his conclusion as to her possibilities.Lessons were over for the day, and girls and boys were amusingthemselves in the drawing-room, while Mr Asplin read the _Spectator_,and his wife knitted stockings by the fire. Mellicent was embroideringa prospective Christmas present, an occupation which engaged her leisurehours from March to December; Esther was reading, and Peggy was supposedto be writing a letter, but was, in reality, talking incessantly, withher elbows planted on the table, and her face supported on her claspedhands. She wore a bright pink frock, which gave a tinge of colour tothe pale face, her hair was unbound from the tight pigtail and tied witha ribbon on the nape of her neck, from which it fell in smooth heavywaves to her waist. It was one of the moments when her companionsrealised with surprise that Peggy could look astonishingly pretty uponoccasion; and Oswald, from the sofa, and Max and Bob, from the oppositeside of the table, listened to her words with all the more attention onthat
account.
She was discussing the heroine of a book which they had been reading inturns, pointing out the inconsistencies in her behaviour, andexpatiating on the superior manner in which she--Mariquita--would havebehaved, had positions been reversed. Then the boys had described theirown imaginary conduct under the trying circumstances, drawing forthpeals of derisive laughter from the feminine audience; and the questionhad finally drifted from "What would you do?" to "What would you be?"with the result that each one was eager to expatiate on his own petschemes and ambitions.
"I should like to come out first in all England in the LocalExaminations, get my degree of M.A., and be a teacher in a large HighSchool," said Esther solemnly. "At Christmas and Easter I would comehome and see my friends, and in summer-time I'd go abroad and travel,and rub up my languages. Of course, what I should like best would be tobe headmistress of Girton, but I could not expect that to come for agood many years. I must be content to work my way up, and I shall bequite happy wherever I am, so long as I am teaching."
"Poor old Esther! and she will wear spectacles, and black alpacadresses, and woollen mittens on her hands! Can't I see her!" cried Max,throwing back his head with one of the cheery bursts of laughter whichbrought his mother's eyes upon him with a flash of adoring pride. "Nowthere's none of that overweening ambition about me. I could bear up ifI never saw an improving book again. What _I_ would like would be forsome benevolent old millionaire to take a fancy to me, and adopt me ashis heir. I feel cut out to be a country gentleman, and march about ingaiters and knickerbockers, looking after the property, don't you know,and interviewing my tenants. I'd be strict with them, but kind at thesame time; look into all their grievances, and put them right whenever Icould. I'd make it a model place before I'd done with it, and all thepeople would adore me. That's my ambition, and a very good one it istoo; I defy anyone to have a better."
"I should like to marry a very rich man with a big moustache, and abeautiful house in London with a fireplace in the hall," cried Mellicentfervently. "I should have carriages and horses, and a diamond necklaceand three children: Valentine Roy--that should be the boy--andHildegarde and Ermyntrude, the girls, and they should have golden hairlike Rosalind, and blue eyes, and never wear anything but white, and bigsilk sashes. I'd have a housekeeper to look after the dinners andthings, and a governess for the children, and never do anything myselfexcept give orders and go out to parties. I'd be the happiest womanthat ever lived."
Lazy Oswald smiled in complacent fashion.
"And the fattest! Dearie me, wouldn't you be a tub! I don't know thatI have any special ambition. I mean to get my degree if I can, and thenpersuade the governor to send me a tour round the world. I like movingabout, and change and excitement, and travelling is good fun if youavoid the fag, and provide yourself with introductions to the rightpeople. I know a fellow who went off for a year, and had no end of atime; people put him up at their houses, and got up balls and dinnersfor his benefit, and he never had to rough it a bit. I could put in ayear or two in that way uncommonly well."
Rob had been wriggling on his chair and scowling in his wild-bearfashion all the while Oswald was speaking, and at the conclusion herelieved his feelings by kicking out recklessly beneath the table, withthe result that Peggy sat up suddenly with a "My foot, my friend! Curbyour enthusiasm!" which made him laugh, despite his annoyance.
"But it's such bosh!" he cried scornfully. "It makes me sick to hear afellow talk such nonsense. Balls and dinners--faugh! If that's youridea of happiness, why not settle down in London and be done with it!That's the place for you! I'd give my ears to go round the world, but Iwouldn't thank you to go with a dress suit and a valet; I'd want torough it, to get right out of the track of civilisation and taste a newlife; to live with the Bedouin in their tents as some of those artistfellows have done, or make friends with a tribe of savages.Magnificent! I'd keep a notebook with an account of all I did, and allthe strange plants and flowers and insects I came across, and write abook when I came home. I'd a lot rather rough it in Africa than loungeabout Piccadilly in a frock coat and tall hat." Robert sighed at thehard prospect which lay before him as the son of a noble house, thenlooked across the table with a smile: "And what says the fair Mariquita?What _role_ in life is she going to patronise when she comes to yearsof discretion?"
Peggy nibbled the end of her pen and stared into space.
"I've not quite decided," she said slowly. "I should like to be eitheran author or an orator, but I'm not sure which. I think, on the whole,an orator, because then you could watch the effect of your words. It isnot possible, of course, but what I should like best would be to be theArchbishop of Canterbury, or some great dignitary of the Church. Oh,just imagine it! To stand up in the pulpit and see the dim cathedralbefore one, and the faces of the people looking up, white and solemn.--I'd stand waiting until the roll of the organ died away, and there was agreat silence; then I would look at them, and say to myself--`A thousandpeople, two thousand people, and for half an hour they are in my power.I can make them think as I will, see as I will, feel as I will. Theyare mine! I am their leader.'--I cannot imagine anything in the worldmore splendid than that! I should choose to be the most wonderfulorator that was ever known, and people would come from all over theworld to hear me, and I would say beautiful things in beautiful words,and see the answer in their faces, and meet the flash in the eyeslooking up into mine. Oh-h! if it could only--only be true; but itcan't, you see. I am a girl, and if I try to do anything in public I amas nervous as a rabbit, and can only squeak, squeak, squeak in a tinylittle voice that would not reach across the room. I had to recite at aprize-giving at school once, and, my dears, it was a lamentable failure!I was only audible to the first three rows, and when it was over Isimply sat down and howled, and my knees shook. Oh dear, the veryrecollection unpowers me! So I think, on the whole, I shall be anauthoress, and let my pen be my sceptre. From my quiet fireside," criedPeggy, with a sudden assumption of the Mariquita manner, and a swing ofthe arms which upset a vase of chrysanthemums, and sent a stream ofwater flowing over the table--"from my quiet fireside I will sway thehearts of men--"
"My plush cloth! Oh, bad girl--my new plush cloth! You dreadful Peggy,what will I do with you?" Mrs Asplin rushed forward to mop with herhandkerchief and lift the dripping flowers to a place of safety, whilePeggy rolled up her eyes with an expression of roguish impenitence.
"Dear Mrs Asplin, it was not I, it was that authoress. She wasevolving her plots... Pity the eccentricities of the great!"