There had been no injunctions of secrecy, and though neither Miss Mohunnor Gillian had publicly mentioned the subject, all Rockquay who caredfor the news knew by Sunday morning that Lady Merrifield's two elderdaughters were engaged.
Gillian, in the course of writing her letters, had become somewhatfamiliarised with the idea, and really looked forward to talking it overwith Kalliope. Though that young person could hardly be termed Alethea'sbest friend, it was certain that Alethea stood foremost with her, andthat her interest in the matter would be very loving.
Accordingly, Kalliope was at the place of meeting even before Gillian,and anxiously she looked as she said--
'May I venture--may I ask if it is true?'
'True? Oh yes, Kally, I knew you would care.'
'Indeed, I well may. There is no expressing how much I owe to dear MissAlethea and Lady Merrifield, and it is such a delight to hear of them.'
Accordingly, Gillian communicated the facts as she knew them, andoffered to give any message.
'Only my dear love and congratulations,' said Kalliope, with a littlesigh. 'I should like to have written, but--'
'But why don't you, then?'
'Oh no; she would be too much engaged to think of us, and it would onlyworry her to be asked for her advice.'
'I think I know what it is about,' said Gillian.
'How? Oh, how do you know? Did Mr. Flight say anything?'
'Mr. Flight?' exclaimed Gillian. 'What has he to do with it?'
'It was foolish, perhaps; but I did hope he might have helped Alexis,and now he seems only to care for his music.'
'Helped him! How?'
'Perhaps it was unreasonable, but Alexis has always been to goodschools. He was getting on beautifully at Leeds, and we thought he wouldhave gained a scholarship and gone on to be a clergyman. That was whathis mind has always been fixed upon. You cannot think how good anddevoted he is,' said Kalliope with a low trembling voice; 'and my fatherwished it very much too. But when the break-up came, Mr. White made ournot being too fine, as he said, to work, a sort of condition of doinganything for us. Mr. Moore did tell him what Alexis is, but I believe hethought it all nonsense, and there was nothing to be done. Alexis--dearfellow--took it so nicely, said he was thankful to be able to helpmother, and if it was his duty and God's will, it was sure to comeright; and he has been plodding away at the marble works ever since,quite patiently and resolutely, but trying to keep up his studies in theevening, only now he has worked through all his old school-books.'
'And does not Mr. Flight know that I will help him?'
'Well, Mr. Flight means to be kind, and sometimes seems to think much ofhim; but it is all for his music, I am afraid. He is always wanting newthings to be learnt and practised, and those take up so much time; andthough he does lend us books, they are of no use for study, though theyonly make the dear boy long and long the more to get on.'
'Does not Mr. Flight know?'
'I am not sure. I think he does; but in his ardour for music he seemsto forget all about it. It does seem such a pity that all Alexis's timeshould be wasted in this drudgery. If I could only be sure of more extrawork for my designs, I could set him free; and if Sir Jasper wereonly at home, I am sure he would put the boy in the way of earning hiseducation. If it were only as a pupil teacher, he would be glad, butthen he says he ought not to throw all on me.'
'Oh, he must be very good!' exclaimed Gillian. 'I am sure papa will helphim! I wish I could. Oh!'--with a sudden recollection--'I wonder whatbooks he wants most. I am going to Silverfold to-morrow, and there arelots of old school-books there of the boys', doing nothing, that I knowhe might have.'
'Oh, Miss Gillian, how good of you! How delighted he would be!'
'Do you know what he wants most?'
'A Greek grammar and lexicon most of all,' was the ready answer. 'He hasbeen trying to find them at the second-hand shop ever so long, but I amafraid there is no hope of a lexicon. They are so large and expensive.'
'I think there is an old one of Jasper's, if he would not mind its backbeing off, and lots of blots.'
'He would mind nothing. Oh, Miss Gillian, you can't think how happy hewill be.
'If there is anything else he wants very much, how could he let meknow?' mused Gillian. 'Oh, I see! What time are you at the works?'
'Alex is there at seven; I don't go till nine.'
'I am to be at the station at 8.40. Could you or Maura meet me there andtell me?'
To this Kalliope agreed, for she said she could be sure of getting toher post in time afterwards, and she seemed quite overjoyed. No onecould look at her without perceiving that Alexis was the prime thoughtof her heart, and Gillian delighted her by repeating Aunt Adeline'sadmiration of his profile, and the general opinion of his singing.
'I am so sorry you have had to give it up,' she added.
'It can't be helped,' Kalliope said; 'and I really have no time.'
'But that's not all,' said Gillian, beginning to blush herself.
'Oh! I hope there's no gossip or nonsense about _that_,' cried Kalliope,her cheeks flaming.
'Only--'
'Not Maura? Naughty little girl, I did not think she knew anything. Notthat there is anything to tell,' said Kalliope, much distressed; 'but itis dreadful that there should be such talk.'
'I thought it was _that_ you meant when you said you wanted advice.'
'No one could advise me, I am afraid,' said the girl. 'If we could onlygo away from this place! But that's impossible, and I dare say the fancywill soon go off!'
'Then you don't care for him?'
'My dear Miss Gillian, when I have seen _gentlemen_!' said Kalliope, ina tone that might have cured her admirer.
They had, however, talked longer than usual, and the notes of thewarning bell came up, just when Gillian had many more questions to ask,and she had to run down the garden all in a glow with eagerness andexcitement, so that Aunt Ada asked if she had been standing in the seawind. Her affirmative was true enough, and yet she was almost ashamed ofit, as not the whole truth, and there was a consciousness about her allthe afternoon which made her soon regret that conversation was chieflyabsorbed by the younger one's lamentations that they were not toaccompany her to Silverfold, and by their commissions. Fergus wanted aformidable amount of precious tools, and inchoate machines, which Mrs.Halfpenny had regarded as 'mess,' and utterly refused to let his auntsbe 'fashed' with; while Valetta's orders were chiefly for the visitingall the creatures, so as to bring an exact account of the health andspirits of Rigdum Funnidos, etc., also for some favourite story-bookswhich she wished to lend to Kitty Varley and Maura White.
'For do you know, Gill, Maura has never had a new story-book since mammagave her Little Alice and her Sister, when she was seven years old! Dobring her Stories They Tell Me, and On Angel's Wings.'
'But is not that Mysie's?'
'Oh yes, but I know Mysie would let her have it. Mysie always let Maurahave everything of hers, because the boys teased her.'
'I will bring it; but I think Mysie ought to be written to before it islent.'
'That is right, Gillian,' said Miss Mohun; 'it is always wiser to beabove-board when dealing with other people's things, even in trifles.'
Why did this sound like a reproach, and as if it implied suspicion thatGillian was not acting on that principle? She resented the feeling. Sheknew she might do as she liked with the boys' old books, for which theycertainly had no affection, and which indeed her mother had talked ofoffering to some of those charities which have a miscellaneous appetite,and wonderful power of adaptation of the disused. Besides, though no onecould have the least objection to their being bestowed on the Whites,the very fact of this being her third secret meeting with Kalliope wasbeginning to occasion an awkwardness in accounting for her knowledge oftheir needs. It was obvious to ask why she had not mentioned the firstmeeting, and this her pride would not endure. She had told her parentsby letter. What more could be desired?
Again, when she would not promis
e to see either Miss Vincent or the MissHackets, because 'she did not want to have a fuss,' Aunt Jane said shethought it a pity, with regard at least to the governess, who mightfeel herself hurt at the neglect, 'and needless secrets are alwaysunadvisable.'
Gillian could hardly repress a wriggle, but her Aunt Ada laughed,saying, 'Especially with you about, Jenny, for you always find themout.'
At present, however, Miss Mohun certainly had no suspicion. Gillian wasvery much afraid she would think proper to come to the station inthe morning; but she was far too busy, and Gillian started off inthe omnibus alone with Mrs. Mount in handsome black silk trim, to bepresented to Mr. Macrae, and much enjoying the trip, having been wellinstructed by Fergus and Valetta in air that she was to see.
Kalliope was descried as the omnibus stopped, and in a few secondsGillian had shaken hands with her, received the note, and heard theardent thanks sent from Alexis, and which the tattered books--even ifthey proved to be right--would scarcely deserve. He would come withhis sister to receive the parcel at the station on Gillian's return--at5.29, an offer which obviated any further difficulties as to conveyance.
Mrs. Mount was intent upon the right moment to run the gauntlet for thetickets; and had it been otherwise, would have seen nothing remarkablein her charge being accosted by a nice-looking ladylike girl. So on theyrushed upon their way, Gillian's spirits rising in a curious sense ofliberty and holiday-making.
In due time they arrived, and were received by Macrae with the ponycarriage, while the trees of Silverfold looked exquisite in their autumnred, gold, and brown.
But the dreariness of the deserted house, with no one on the steps butQuiz, and all the furniture muffled in sheets, struck Gillian more thanshe had expected, though the schoolroom had been wakened up for her, abright fire on the hearth, and the cockatoo highly conversational,the cats so affectionate that it was difficult to take a step withoutstumbling over one of them.
When the business had all been despatched, the wedding veil disinterred,and the best Brussels and Honiton safely disposed in a box, when anextremely dilapidated and much-inked collection of school-books had beenrouted out of the backstairs cupboard (commonly called Erebus) and dulypacked, when a selection of lighter literature had been made with a viewboth to Valetta and Lilian; when Gillian had shown all she could toMrs. Mount, visited all the animals, gone round the garden, and made twobeautiful posies of autumn flowers, one for her little sister and theother for Kalliope, discovered that Fergus's precious machine had beenruthlessly made away with, but secured his tools,--she found eatingpartridge in solitary grandeur rather dreary work, though she had allthe bread-sauce to herself, and cream to her apple tart, to say nothingof Macrae, waiting upon her as if she had been a duchess, and conversingin high exultation upon the marriages, only regretting that onegentleman should be a civilian; he had always augured that all his youngladies would be in the Service, and begging that he might be made awareof the wedding-day, so as to have the bells rung.
To express her own feelings to the butler was not possible, and his gleealmost infected her. She was quite sorry when, having placed a choiceof pears and October peaches before her, he went off to entertain Mrs.Mount; and after packing a substratum of the fruit in the basket for theWhites, she began almost to repent of having insisted on not returningto Rockstone till the four o'clock train, feeling her solitary libertyoppressive; and finally she found herself walking down the drive insearch of Miss Vincent.
She had to confess to herself that her aunt was quite right, and thatthe omission would have been a real unkindness, when she saw how wornand tired the governess looked, and the brightness that flashed over thepale face at sight of her. Mrs. Vincent had been much worse, and thoughslightly better for the present was evidently in a critical state, veryexhausting to her daughter.
Good Miss Hacket at that moment came in to sit with her, and send thedaughter out for some air; and it was well that Gillian had had somepractice in telling her story not too disconsolately, for it wasreceived with all the delight that the mere notion of a marriageseems to inspire, though Phyllis and Alethea had scarcely been seen atSilverfold before they had gone to India with their father.
Miss Hacket had to be content with the names before she hastened upto the patient; but Miss Vincent walked back through the paddock withGillian, talking over what was more personally interesting to thegoverness, the success of her own pupils, scattered as they were, andcomparing notes upon Mysie's letters. One of these Miss Vincent had justreceived by the second post, having been written to announce the greatnews, and it continued in true Mysie fashion:--
'Cousin Rotherwood knows all about them, and says they will have afamous set of belongings. He will take me to see some of them if we goto London before mamma comes home. Bernard Underwood's sister is marriedto Mr. Grinstead, the sculptor who did the statue of Mercy at theGate that Harry gave a photograph of to mamma, and she paints picturesherself. I want to see them; but I do not know whether we shall stay inLondon, for they do not think it agrees with Fly. I do more lessons thanshe does now, and I have read through all Autour de mon Jardin. I havea letter from Dolores too, and she thinks that Aunt Phyllis and allare coming home to make a visit in England for Uncle Harry to see hisfather, and she wishes very much that they would bring her; but it isnot to be talked about for fear they should be hindered, and old Dr. Mayhear of it and be disappointed; but you won't see any one to tell.'
'There, what have I done?' exclaimed Miss Vincent in dismay. 'But I hadonly just got the letter, and had barely glanced through it.'
'Besides, who would have thought of Mysie having any secrets?' saidGillian.
'After all, I suppose no harm is done; for you can't have any otherconnection with these Mays.'
'Oh yes, there will be; for I believe a brother of this man of Phyllis'smarried one of the Miss Mays, and I suppose we shall have to get mixedup with the whole lot. How I do hate strangers! But I'll take care, MissVincent, indeed I will. One is not bound to tell one's aunts everythinglike one's mother.'
'No,' said Miss Vincent decidedly, 'especially when it is anotherperson's secret betrayed through inadvertence.' Perhaps she thoughtGillian looked dangerously gratified, for she added: 'However, you knowpoor Dolores did not find secrecy answer.'
'Oh, there are secrets and secrets, and aunts and aunts!' said Gillian.'Dolores had no mother.'
'It makes a difference,' said Miss Vincent. 'I should never ask you toconceal anything from Lady Merrifield. Besides, this is not a matter ofconduct, only a report.'
Gillian would not pursue the subject. Perhaps she was a littledisingenuous with her conscience, for she wanted to carry off theimpression that Miss Vincent had pronounced concealment from her auntsto be justifiable; and she knew at the bottom of her heart that hergoverness would condemn a habit of secret intimacy with any one beingcarried on without the knowledge of her hostess and guardian for thetime being,--above all when it was only a matter, of waiting.
It is a fine thing for self-satisfaction to get an opinion withouttelling the whole of the facts of the case, and Gillian went home inhigh spirits, considerably encumbered with parcels, and surprising Mrs.Mount by insisting that two separate packages should be made of thebooks.
Kalliope and Alexis were both awaiting her at the station, theirgratitude unbounded, and finding useful vent by the latter fetching acab and handing in the goods.
It was worth something to see how happy the brother and sister looked,as they went off in the gaslight, the one with the big brown paperparcel, the other with the basket of fruit and flowers; and Gillian'sexplanation to Mrs. Mount that they were old friends of her soldieringdays was quite satisfactory.
There was a grand unpacking. Aunt Ada was pleased with the late roses,and Aunt Jane that there had been a recollection of Lilian Giles, towhom she had thought her niece far too indifferent. Valetta fondled theflowers, and was gratified to hear of the ardent affection of the Begumand the health of Rigdum, though Gillian was forced to confess that
shehad not transferred to him the kiss that she had been commissionedto convey. Nobody was disappointed except Fergus, who could notbut vituperate the housemaids for the destruction of his new patentguillotine for mice, which was to have been introduced to ClementVarley. To be sure it would hardly ever act, and had never cut offthe head of anything save a dandelion, but that was a triflingconsideration.
A letter from Mysie was awaiting Gillian, not lengthy, for there wasa long interval between Mysie's brains and her pen, and saying nothingabout the New Zealand report. The selection of lace was much approved,and the next day there was to be an expedition to endeavour to get theveil matched as nearly as possible. The only dangerous moment was atbreakfast the next day, when Miss Mohun said--
'Fanny was delighted with Silverfold. Macrae seems to have been the pinkof politeness to her.'
'She must come when the house is alive again,' said Gillian. 'What wouldshe think of it then!'
'Oh, that would be perfectly delicious,' cried Valetta. 'She would seeBegum and Rigdum--'
'And I could show her how to work the lawn cutter,' added Fergus.
'By the bye,' said Aunt Jane, 'whom have you been lending books to?'
'Oh, to the Whites,' said Gillian, colouring, as she felt more than shecould wish. 'There were some old school-books that I thought wouldbe useful to them, and I was sure mamma would like them to have someflowers and fruit.'
She felt herself very candid, but why would Aunt Jane look at thosetell-tale cheeks.
Sunday was wet, or rather 'misty moisty,' with a raw sea-fog overhangingeverything--not bad enough, however, to keep any one except AuntAda from church or school, though she decidedly remonstrated againstGillian's going out for her wandering in the garden in such weather;and, if she had been like the other aunt, might almost have beenconvinced that such determination must be for an object. However,Gillian encountered the fog in vain, though she walked up and down thepath till her clothes were quite limp and flabby with damp. All the viewthat rewarded her was the outline of the shrubs looming through the mistlike distant forests as mountains. Moreover, she got a scoldingfrom Aunt Ada, who met her coming in, and was horrified at the mistyatmosphere which she was said to have brought in, and insisted on hergoing at once to change her dress, and staying by the fireside all therest of the afternoon.
'I cannot think what makes her so eager about going out in theafternoon,' said the younger aunt to the elder. 'It is impossible thatshe can have any reason for it.'
'Only Sunday restlessness,' said Miss Mohun, 'added to the recklessfolly of the "Bachfisch" about health.'
'That's true,' said Adeline, 'girls must be either so delicate that theyare quite helpless, or so strong as to be absolutely weather-proof.'
Fortune, however, favoured Gillian when next she went to Lily Giles. Shehad never succeeded in taking real interest in the girl, who seemedto her to be so silly and sentimental that an impulse to answer drilyinstantly closed up all inclination to effusions of confidence.Gillian had not yet learnt breadth of charity enough to understand thateverybody does not feel, or express feeling, after the same pattern;that gush is not always either folly or insincerity; and that girls ofLily's class are about at the same stage of culture as the young ladiesof whom her namesake in the Inheritance is the type. When Lily showedher in some little magazine the weakest of poetry, and called it sosweet, just like 'dear Mr. Grant's lovely sermon, the last she hadheard. Did he not look so like a saint in his surplice and white stole,with his holy face and beautiful blue eyes; it was enough to make anyone feel good to look at him,' Gillian simply replied, 'Oh, _I_ neverthink of the clergyman's looks,' and hurried to her book, feelinginfinitely disgusted and contemptuous, never guessing that these poorverses, and the curate's sermons and devotional appearance were, to theyoung girl's heart, the symbols of all that was sacred, and all that wasrefined, and that the thought of them was the solace of her lonely andsuffering hours. Tolerant sympathy is one of the latest lessons of life,and perhaps it is well that only
'The calm temper of our age should be Like the high leaves upon the holly-tree,'
for the character in course of formation needs to be guarded byprickles.
However, on this day Undine was to be finished, for Gillian was inhaste to begin Katharine Ashton, which would, she thought, be much morewholesome reality, so she went on later than usual, and came away atlast, leaving her auditor dissolved in tears over poor Undine's act ofjustice.
As Mrs. Giles, full of thanks, opened the little garden-gate just astwilight was falling, Gillian beheld Kalliope and Alexis White coming uptogether from the works, and eagerly met and shook hands with them.The dark days were making them close earlier, they explained, and asKalliope happened to have nothing to finish or purchase, she was able tocome home with her brother.
Therewith Alexis began to express, with the diffidence of extremegratitude, his warm thanks for the benefaction of books, which wereexactly what he had wanted and longed for. His foreign birth enabled himto do this much more prettily and less clumsily than an English boy, andGillian was pleased, though she told him that her brother's old ill-usedbooks were far from worthy of such thanks.
'Ah, you cannot guess how precious they are to me!' said Alexis. 'Theyare the restoration of hope.'
'And can you get on by yourself?' asked Gillian. 'Is it not verydifficult without any teacher?'
'People have taught themselves before,' returned the youth, 'so I hopeto do so myself; but of course there are many questions I long to ask.'
'Perhaps I could answer some,' said Gillian; 'I have done some classicswith a tutor.'
'Oh, thank you, Miss Merrifield,' he said eagerly. 'If you could make meunderstand the force of the aorist.
It so happened that Gillian had the explanation at her tongue's end, andit was followed by another, and another, till one occurred which couldhardly be comprehended without reference to the passage, upon whichAlexis pulled a Greek Testament out of his pocket, and his sister couldnot help exclaiming--
'Oh, Alexis, you can't ask Miss Merrifield to do Greek with you out inthe street.'
Certainly it was awkward, the more so as Mrs. Stebbing just then droveby in her carriage.
'What a pity!' exclaimed Gillian. 'But if you would set down anydifficulties, you could send them to me by Kalliope on Sunday.'
'Oh, Miss Merrifield, how very good of you!' exclaimed Alexis, his facelighting up with joy.
But Kalliope looked doubtful, and began a hesitating 'But--'
'I'll tell you of a better way!' exclaimed Gillian. 'I always go oncea week to read to this Lilian Giles, and if I come down afterwards toKalliope's office after you have struck work, I could see to anythingyou wanted to ask.'
Alexis broke out into the most eager thanks. Kalliope said hardlyanything, and as they had reached the place where the roads diverged,they bade one another good-evening.
Gillian looked after the brother and sister just as the gas was beinglighted, and could almost guess what Alexis was saying, by his gesturesof delight. She did not hear, and did not guess how Kalliope answered,'Don't set your heart on it too much, dear fellow, for I should greatlydoubt whether Miss Gillian's aunts will consent. Oh yes, of course, ifthey permit her, it will be all right.
So Gillian went her way feeling that she had found her 'great thing.'Training a minister for the Church! Was not that a 'great thing'?
CHAPTER VIII. -- GILLIAN'S PUPIL