Florrie's part, and the desire to do whatwas disapproved of; her family were above the class who were likely to"walk with" anyone at fifteen, and she only hurried along giggling andwhispering towards the riverside.
A pretty, sleepy, flat-country river ran through the meadows that layround about Rapley, and the towing-path beside it was a favourite Sundaywalk, and in its quieter regions was the resort of engaged couples, andof quiet families walking out with their babies in their perambulators.But the stretch of river between the suburban region where the cemeterylay and the church of Saint Jude, in the district of which it wasincluded, was near the lower parts of the town, and on Sundays was fullof roughs, and idle lads on the way to become roughs. No girls who werecareful of their conduct and wished to keep out of noisy company wouldhave gone there in the afternoon. Florrie Whittaker and her two friendsknew quite well that they had no business to be in that direction; but afeint of pursuit from some of the lads as they hung about the classroomdoor sent them scurrying and looking behind them down the street, andthey soon found themselves, in all their conspicuous finery, walkingalong the towing-path by the river. It was a shabby region; new and yetdirty little houses bordered it, their back yards and back gardens, eachone less ornamental than the last, stretching down to the path, betweenwhich and the river were a few pollard willows. On the other sidespread out a low-lying marshy region, which was generally flooded in thewinter. A small public-house ended the row of houses where a swing gateled into the fields beyond.
"I say," said Carrie, "we didn't ought to have come down here. Mother'll give it me when I get back."
"No more we'd ought," said Ada. "If Miss Simpson were to hear of it,she'd say I was letting down the school. Come through the gate andacross the fields, Florrie; this ain't nice at all."
"I don't care," said Florrie, stimulated by sundry remarks caught inpassing; "we can take care on ourselves. I ain't a-going to speak toanyone; but I'll walk here as long as I like. Oh my! what fun it'd beif your governess did catch you, Ada!"
"You wouldn't think it fun if Mrs Lee was to catch you," said Ada.
"Oh my! shouldn't I though?" said Florrie, with her beaming face all ina twinkle. "I'd like to see her coming through the gate. There's aboat on the river; let's stop and see it go by."
"Don't, Florrie Whittaker," said Carrie. "There's Liza Mason and PollyGrant, and I ain't a-going to be seen with _they_."
"Well, I am then," said Florrie, delighted at teasing her friends, andquite indifferent to the fact that the two girls who joined them were ofa much rougher, lower stamp than themselves--girls whose Sunday fineryconsisted of an artificial flower to enliven their weekday dirt, andwho, poor things, were little general drudges in places which norespectable girl would take. Liza and Polly were nothing loth, whenFlorrie chose to acknowledge an old Sunday school fellowship in mischiefby stopping to speak. Liza was saucy, and called out loudly that shethought they'd all be too proud to take any notice.
"Not I," said Florrie. "I don't care for no one. You come into ourshop, Liza, any day, and I'll show you all the best things in it."
"That you won't," said one of a group of the Sunday school lads who hadfollowed. "I'd dare you to do that--you'd be afraid."
"I dare," said Florrie. "You come in with an errand and see. I dare doanything I've a mind to; I don't care for no one!"
"Florence Whittaker," said Ada Price, the pupil-teacher getting thebetter of the mischievous, idle girl in her, "I'll never walk with youagain, you're too bad--and--oh my, come on, for there _is_ your Mrs Leecoming through the gate. Florrie, Florrie! She'll see you in anotherminute!"
Ada and Carrie were indifferently behaved and common-minded girls, butthey were not without some sense. A moderate amount of misbehaviour at,and on the road to and from their Sunday class was their way of enjoyingtheir rather scanty bit of freedom; but risking their weekday occupationand their means of earning their living was another thing altogether.They pulled away from Florence, held up their heads, and walked on.
But Florence Whittaker was daring with a different degree of folly fromthat of most silly girls. The sense of when to stop was lacking in her,as it had been woefully lacking in her eldest brother, and the sense ofhow delightful her employer's face of horror would be kept her standingin the midst of the group of rough lads and girls, and tempted her toraise her voice and call out again, "You see if I don't!"
Mrs Lee, a most respectable-looking tradeswoman, walking through thefields with a friend, stopped short at sight of the "young lady" whoserved in her fancy shop thus surrounded. "Miss Whittaker!" she said ina voice of blank amazement.
"Good afternoon, Mrs Lee," said Florence pertly. "Isn't it a niceafternoon?"
"Miss Whittaker, I am surprised."
"Are you, Mrs Lee? Our class is just over." Mrs Lee looked her upand down, and walked on in silence. This was no place for analtercation.
"Go on, Florence Whittaker," said one of the bigger lads. "The oldlady's right enough, and this ain't the place for young ladies--"
"'Twas all along of you we came," said Florence. "Well, good-bye, Liza;don't you forget."
She ran off after her companions, who were now walking soberly enoughacross the field path which led back into the high road. But Florrie'sspirits were quite unchecked. She laughed at the thought of Mrs Lee'samazement, she laughed at Carrie and Ada's fright, she repeated withmore laughing the various vulgar jokes which had passed with the ladsand with Polly and Liza.
"I never thought," said Ada indignantly, "that you'd join company,Florence Whittaker, with such as them. It's as much as I'd do to passthe time of day with them."
"Now then," said Florrie, "didn't Miss Mordaunt say last Sunday as itwas very stuck up and improper to object to Maria Wilson coming to theclass because she's a _general_? and she said I was a kind girl to lether look over my Bible, so there!"
"Maria Wilson do behave herself," said Carrie.
"Well, Carrie Jones, don't you talk about behaviour! Do Miss Mullinsalways behave herself? Don't she walk out at the back with the youngmen in the shop, and wait outside the church for them? And you're gladenough to walk with _her_. I don't care how people behave so long as Ican have my fun, and I don't care who they are neither."
Ada and Carrie, brought face to face with one of the practical puzzlesof life for girls of their standing, the difficulty of "keeping oneselfup" in a right and not in a wrong way, were far too conscious ofinconsistency to have anything to say, and Ada changed the subject.
"Well, anyway, I wouldn't be you to-morrow morning, Florrie," she said.
"I like to get a rise out of Mrs Lee," said Florrie, "and I don't carea bit for her. I shall just enjoy it."
Carrie and Ada did not believe her, but, worse luck for Florence, it wasperfectly true. She did not care. The power of calculatingconsequences was either absent from her nature or entirely undevelopedin it. She was not a bit put out by her companions' annoyance, andlaughed at them as she parted from them at the upper gate of thecemetery. The sun was still shining brightly on the clean gravel walks,the white marble crosses and columns, and on the many flowers plantedbeneath them. Apart from its associations, Rapley cemetery was acheerful, pleasant place, and Florence, as she noted a new-made grave,heaped up with white flowers, only thought that there was an extranumber of pretty wreaths there, without a care as to the grief whichthey represented.
Mr Whittaker was very proud of the good taste and good order of hiscemetery, and took a great deal of trouble to have everything kept as itshould be.
Even Martha, in whose favourite literature lonely churchyards and silenttombs were often to be met with, never thought of connecting thesentiment which they evoked with the nice tidy rows of modern monumentsamong which she lived. Aunt Lizzie occasionally pointed a moral byhoping her nieces would remember that they might soon be lying beneaththem; but they never regarded the remark as anything more than a flowerof speech.
Florence got in just in time for tea, to fin
d her father giving MrsStroud the history of some transactions he had lately had with the"Board," in which he had brought over all the gentlemen to see that hewas right as regarded certain by-laws.
Mr Whittaker was a round-faced, rosy man, like his younger children.He was a very respectable, hard-working man, and a kind father; but hethought a good deal of his own importance and of the importance of hissituation, and a good deal of his conversation consisted in impressinghis own good