CHAPTER TWO.
THE SISTERS.
Mr Vane's house overlooked Regent's Park, and formed the corner houseof a white terrace boasting Grecian pillars and a railed-in stretch ofgrass in front of the windows. The rooms were large and handsome, andof that severe, box-like outline which are the despair of the modernupholsterer. The drawing-room boasted half a dozen windows, four infront, and two at the side, and as regards furnishings was a curiousgraft of modern art upon an Early Victoria stock. Logically thecombination was an anachronism; in effect it was charming andharmonious, for the changes had been made with the utmost caution, inconsideration of the feelings of the head of the household.
Mr Vane's argument was that he preferred solid old-fashioned furnitureto modern gimcracks, and had no wish to conform to artistic fads, andhis daughters dutifully agreed, and--disobeyed! Their mode of procedurewas to withdraw one article at a time, and to wait until the parentaleye had become accustomed to the gap before venturing on a secondconfiscation. On the rare occasions when the abduction was discovered,it was easy to fall back upon the well-worn domestic justification, "Oh,that's been gone a _long_ time!" when, in justice to one's own power ofobservation, the matter must be allowed to drop.
The eldest daughter of the household had married five years before thedate at which this narrative opens, and during that period had enjoyedthe happiness of a true and enduring devotion, and the troublesinseparable from a constant financial struggle, ending with bankruptcy,and a retreat from a tastefully furnished villa at Surbiton to a drearylodging in Oxford Terrace. Poor Edith had lost much of her beauty andlight-hearted gaiety as a result of anxiety and the constant care of twodelicate children; but never in the blackest moment of her trouble hadshe wished herself unwed, or been willing to change places with anywoman who had not the felicity of being John Martin's wife.
Trouble had drawn Jack and herself more closely together; she was inarms in a passion of indignation against that world which judged a manby the standpoint of success or failure, and lay in readiness to heaveanother stone at the fallen. At nightfall she watched for his coming tojudge of the day's doings by the expression of his face, before it litup with the dear welcoming smile. At sight of the weary lines, strengthcame to her, as though she could move mountains on his behalf. As theysat together on the horsehair sofa, his tired head resting on hershoulder, the strain and the burden fell from them both, and they knewthemselves millionaires of blessings.
The second daughter of the Vane household was a very different characterfrom her sensitive and highly-strung sister. The fairies who hadattended her christening, and bequeathed upon the infant the gifts ofindustry, common sense, and propriety, forgot to bestow at the same timethat most valuable of all qualities,--the power to awaken love! Herrelatives loved Agnes--"Of course," they would have said; but when "ofcourse" is added in this connection, it is sadly eloquent! The poorwhom she visited were basely ungrateful for her doles, and when sheapproached empty-handed, took the occasion to pay a visit to aneighbour's back yard, leaving her to flay her knuckles on anunresponsive door.
Agnes had many acquaintances, but no friends, and none of the young menwho frequented the house had exhibited even a passing inclination to payher attention.
Edith had been a belle in her day; while as for Margot, every masculinecreature gravitated towards her as needles to a magnet. Among variousproposals of marriage had been one from so solid and eligible a _parti_,that even the doting father had laid aside his grudge, and turned intospecial pleader. He had advanced one by one the different claims toconsideration possessed by the said suitor, and to every argument Margothad meekly agreed, until the moment arrived at which she was naturallyexpected to say "Yes" to the concluding exhortation, when she said "No"with much fervour, and stuck to it to the end of the chapter. Pressedfor reasons for her obstinacy, she could advance none more satisfyingthan that "she did not like the shape of his ears"! but the worthy manwas rejected nevertheless, and took a voyage to the Cape to blow awayhis disappointment.
No man crossed as much as a road for the sake of Agnes Vane! It was atragedy, because this incapacity of her nature by no means prohibitedthe usual feminine desire for appreciation. Agnes could not understandwhy she was invariably passed over in favour of her sisters, and whyeven her father was more influenced by the will-o'-the-wisp Margot thanby her own staid maxims. Agnes could not understand many things. Inthis obtuseness, perhaps, and in a deadly lack of humour lay the secretof her limitations.
On the morning after the conversation between the brother and sisterrecorded in the last chapter the young poet paced his attic sitting-room, wrestling with lines that halted, and others which were palpablyartificial. Margot's accusations had gone home, and instead ofindulging in fresh flights, he resolved to correct certain errors in thelines now on hand until the verses should be polished to a flawlesswhole. Any one who has any experience with the pen understands thedifficulty of such a task, and the almost hopeless puzzle of changing astone in the mosaic without disturbing the whole. The infinite capacityfor taking pains is not by any means a satisfying definition of genius,but it is certainly one great secret of success.
Ronald's awkward couplet gave him employment for the rest of themorning, and lunch-time found him still dissatisfied. An adjectiveavoided his quest--the right adjective; the one and only word whichexpressed the precise shade of meaning desired. From the recesses ofhis brain it peeped at him, now advancing so near that it was almostwithin grasp, anon retreating to a shadowy distance. There was no helpfor it but to wait for the moment when, tired of its game of hide-and-seek, it would choose the most unexpected and inappropriate moment topeer boldly forward, and make its curtsy.
Meantime Margot had dusted the china in the drawing-room, watered theplants, put in an hour's practising, and done a _few_ odds and ends ofmending; in a word, had gone through the programme which comprises theduties of a well-to-do modern maiden, and by half-past eleven wasstepping out of the door, arrayed in a pretty spring dress, and herthird best hat. She crept quietly along the hall, treading with thecautious steps of one who wishes to escape observation; but herprecautions were in vain, for just as she was passing the door of themorning-room it was thrown open from within, and Agnes appeared upon thethreshold--Agnes neat and trim in her morning gown of serviceable fawnalpaca, her hands full of tradesmen's books, on her face an expressionof acute disapproval.
"Going out, Margot? So early? It's not long past eleven o'clock!"
"I know?"
"Where are you going?"
"Don't know!"
"If you are passing down Edgware Road--"
"I'm not!"
The front door closed with a bang, leaving Agnes discomfited on the mat.There was no denying that at times Margot was distinctly difficult inher dealings with her elder sister. She herself was aware of the fact,and repented ardently after each fresh offence, but alas! withoutreformation.
"We don't fit. We never shall, if we live together a hundred years.Edgware Road, indeed, on a morning like this, when you can hear thespring a-calling, and it's a sin and a shame to live in a city at all!If I had told her I was going into the Park, she would have offeredstale bread for the ducks!" Margot laughed derisively as she crossedthe road in the direction of the Park, and passing in through a narrowgateway, struck boldly across a wide avenue between stretches of grasswhere the wind and sun had full play, and she could be as much alone aspossible, within the precincts of the great city.
In spite of her light and easy manner, the problem of her brother'sfuture weighed heavily upon the girl's mind. The eleventh hourapproached, and nothing more definite had been achieved in the way ofencouragement than an occasional written line at the end of the printedrejections: "Pleased to see future verses," "Unsuitable; but shall beglad to consider other poems." Even the optimism of two-and-twentyrecognised that such straws as these could not weigh against the hard-headed logic of a business man!
It was in the last deg
ree unlikely that Ronald would make any strikingsuccess in literature in the time still remaining under the terms of theagreement, unless--as she herself had hinted--desperate measures wereadopted to meet desperate needs. A scheme was hatching in Margot'sbrain,--daring, uncertain; such a scheme as no one but a young and self-confident girl could have conceived, but holding nevertheless thepossibilities of success. She wanted to think it out, and movement inthe fresh air gave freedom to her thoughts.
Really it was simple enough,--requiring only a little trouble, a littleengineering, a little harmless diplomacy. Ronald was a mere babe wheresuch things were concerned, but he would be obedient and do as he wastold, and for the rest, Margot was confident of her own powers.
The speculative frown gave way to a smile; she laughed, a gleeful,girlish laugh, and tossed her head, unconsciously acting a littleduologue, with nods and frowns and upward languishing glance. Allthings seem easy to sweet and twenty, when the sun shines, and the scentof spring is in the air. The completed scheme stood out clear anddistinct in Margot's mind. Only one small clue was lacking, and thatshe was even now on the way to discover!